


From Princess to King

by stardustellations



Category: haikyuu
Genre: Alternate Universe-the Adventures of Rapunzel, Iwaizumi needs a break, Oikawa has no idea what's going on, Ushijima's actually not evil
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-14 08:37:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9171118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustellations/pseuds/stardustellations
Summary: “You,” Oikawa’s eyes flashed. “You broke into my tower. You stole, you lied, and you tricked me. You have not only put Sorcerer in danger, but you have also destroyed all of my beautiful, gorgeous hair. Are you done ruining my life, or is there still more left?”There was a moment of silence where Iwaizumi watched Oikawa with eyes he couldn’t read.“Listen,” Iwaizumi pointed his dagger at Oikawa. “You don’t know anything. You only know what that sorcerer wants you to know. Have you ever wondered if he was hurting other people? Maybe that’s why the fairies want to stop him. As for your hair? That’s fifty pounds of unnecessary weight you're carrying around. You’ll never get your cure back like that.”Or Rapunzel AU in which Oikawa is a clever but oblivoius asshole and Iwaizumi just needs a break.





	1. Chapter One: Prince/Peasant Iwaizumi

**Author's Note:**

> this is an AU from the Adventures of Rapunzel, and don't w o r r y, Ushijima isn't all that bad. It's mostly Oikawa's POV, and if you have any feedback/criticisms/comments, leave them in the comments below. Enjoy!

Oikawa carelessly flicks the book away from his bed, towards his grand book shelf. It hits the empty space Oikawa had aimed for at an angle, and lands on the ground with a lifeless thud. Oikawa frowns. Even when he’s not paying attention, he usually never misses. Guess he should try again.

But he doesn’t want to get another book. He decided he was done reading for the day, as the sun was starting to set, splattering beautiful golden rays all along the balcony in front of him.

The stories the books told were all very interesting though. They were all about him, and were all very similar in plot. For one thing, he was beautiful, which made the stories better. It also helped to be beloved, which Oikawa was; Sorcerer loved him so much that he gave him whatever he asked for. Finally-and most importantly- Oikawa was innocent. He wasn’t exactly sure what innocent meant, but he knew that he was, and all the books said it made him perfect.

He wasn’t going to argue with that. He was tall, lean and had the prettiest eyes in the land. The books all said so. Sorcerer also confirmed the fact that Oikawa was tall-even though he was shorter than the Sorcerer by an inch or so. Oikawa stretched his hands out, and smiled as he admired how slender and graceful they look.

He sat up, and tucked a few strands of his hair back into its braid. His hair had been given its own bath yesterday, and was already shining clean. It ran in a golden brown cord as thick as his wrist across the wide, round tower room and ended at the balcony, where most of it remained, a hundred feet of braided brown hair roped tightly around a wheel. Whenever Sorcerer wanted to climb up, Oikawa turned the wooden crank and lowered his braid to the ground, almost a hundred feet below. Sorcerer was the only creature to ever touch his hair, and Oikawa had no intention of ever letting anyone else near it.

Especially not a prince. In his storybooks, the princes clamored for Oikawa. They stood below his big balcony and shouted up lies-about how beautiful the ground was or how fantastic their royal palaces were. They swore that Sorcerer was evil and begged him to abandon his tower to follow them, but usually their attempts ended in vain. In most of his books, Oikawa remained in his tower, staring contemptuously down at them.

But sometimes he was foolish. Sometimes his storybook self became curious enough to let down his hair and let a prince climb up it, or, worse, to follow a prince out of the tower and down to the ground. Those were the scariest stories. He met people who dwelled on the ground, and learned they were the most repulsive things ever. Peasants, the book called them, and they were nasty things. But in every book, no matter how great the danger, all Oikawa had to do was call out for Sorcerer, who appeared and took care of whoever or whatever was displeasing Oikawa.

Oikawa decided he was never going to be like Oikawa in those stories. Why would he leave his tower? There were books to read, a sea of hair to brush and braid, a balcony on which to run and tumble on. He had pretty clothes, jewels and gadgets to entertain him. If he ever felt restless, he would play hoops for hours on end. It involved a rubber ball the size of his head and all he had to do was hit it through several copper hoops hung vertically on the wall at different intervals. He was pretty good at hoops-he could aim it wherever he wanted to with basically any part of his body-he once hit it in the target with his hip fifteen feet away. He could also have Sorcerer come up to entertain him.

There was a distant thumping noise. Footsteps. Sorcerer must be on the ground, ready to climb up. Perhaps he came to tell Oikawa of the adventures he encountered on his journeys. Oikawa slid out of his bed and walked to the edge of the balcony. “Sorcerer-chan?” Oikawa sang, surveying the floor below.

No answer. It was getting too dark to see anything on the floor a hundred feet below, so Oikawa shrugged. A loud metallic clang suddenly made Oikawa jump. It came from behind him, near the closed window next to the bed.

“Sorcerer?” he called. Sometimes the “Sorcerer-chan” kind of irritated him, he could tell by the narrowing of the harsh hazel eyes. But the Sorcerer always tolerated whatever Oikawa did.

“Light!” Oikawa called, and the flames in his massive fireplace roared to life, casting shadows along the stone walls. He surveyed the tower, eyes narrowing. He swore he heard something.

The window suddenly burst open, causing Oikawa to shriek.

“Your voice is as pleasant as ever,” came a low voice.

Oikawa turned to the sound, breathing hard. There stood a boy his age, still wincing from the high pitch shriek Oikawa had emitted. He was- Oikawa realized, his terror and excitement mounting- a prince.

A prince had finally come! Sorcerer had always said that it would happen soon or later, but none of the stories had prepared him for how it would feel.

Terror was washed away by immediate excitement. This was different! He’d never seen a real prince before.

The prince narrowed his eyes. “You okay there? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

The prince had slanting, almost black eyes that were a little less harsh than the Sorcerer’s. He had black short hair that was spikey and stuck up. Oikawa realized with shock that the prince was shorter than him. He barley came up to the bridge of Oikawa’s nose, and he was in his boots too. All the princes in his book were taller than him, strong, broad and dashing.

This one was pretty broad, Oikawa decided, noticing how thick his shoulders were. But he was kind of watching Oikawa with a judgmental look, so Oikawa decided he wasn’t the dashing type.

“Well, you should probably learn to control your vocal chords,” the spikey haired prince rubbed the back of his head, looking around the tower. “You probably busted one of my eardrums.”

Oikawa tilted his head, confused. In his books, princes fell to their knees, blinded by his radiance. They called him “handsome” and “darling” and “my love” and they refused to leave the tower without him. Didn’t the spikey haired prince know how he was supposed to behave? Why wasn’t he doing his part?

Oikawa looked down at himself. He was wearing a simple t-shirt and shorts that came up right above his knees. Maybe that was the problem; in his books he was always dressed elegantly. He strode past the spikey haired prince toward his great wardrobe, and flung it open. What was appropriate for rejecting a prince? Perhaps this shiny blue satin robe. Or this dashing black jacket. Or maybe the nice tux that had all the gossamer layers. Yes, that one was nice.

“What the hell are you doing?” asked the prince.

“I’m getting ready,” Oikawa replied. “Wait.”

“Wait for what?”

“For the part where you tell me how much you love me. I have to get dressed first.”

“I don’t-“

“I said wait,” Oikawa sighed. “You’re not a very good prince. You don’t even have a crown, or a cloak.”

“Are you serious? I told you yesterday-“

Oikawa ignored the prince, and laid out the suit on the bed and started to pull off his shirt.

“What are you doing? Put that back on!”

Oikawa turned to frown at him, shirt off. “I’m going to put on an undershirt before putting on my suit. But I can’t wear this t-shirt underneath it.”

“But you can’t-I’m literally standing right here.” The prince looked a little panicked.

Oikawa watched him, nonplussed. “Have you gone mad?” He’d never seen anyone do that.

“No.”

“Are you dying?” he suggested. He’d never seen anyone do that either.

“Just put your t-shirt back on. And put on a jacket or something, it’s cold as hell,” the prince snatched a windbreaker from his wardrobe and flung it at him.

Oikawa caught it, frowning. “I was going to-“

“I just want to get out of here, but I need to get what I came for,” the prince rolled his eyes, as if he was bothered.

“What, _me_?” Oikawa laughed. “You’ll never get me. I’ve read all about the filthy, horrible ground and the nasty things princes do.”

“Are you dressed yet?”

“Yes!” Oikawa threw on the shirt and the windbreaker. “I don’t know why it matter so much.”

“Because it’s what people do, dumbass,” the prince rolled his eyes again.

Oikawa bristled at his tone. “What people? Short people with dirty clothes who break through other peoples’ windows without asking?”

The prince fixed Oikawa with slanted eyes. “I’m not short,” he hissed. “I’m almost your height. And you’re the one to talk about looks when you’ve got a hundred feet of useless hair.”

Oikawa stared, his mouth starting to furl itself into a snarl. He was going to _pay_ for insulting his hair.

“My hair,” Oikawa said, rage roughening his voice, “is not useless, Prince.”

“Stop calling me a – “

“It’s actually glorious, you dumb Prince.”

The prince clenched his jaw. “I’m not a – “

“Sorcerer needs my hair to climb up here. How else would he visit?”

“Let’s see,” the prince put his hand to his chin. “Maybe you could throw down a rope? Or a ladder? Or get some stairs. Or if the sorcerer is that into climbing, he could use a rope and grappling hook.”

Oikawa didn’t know what he meant by ‘grappling hook’ but he wasn’t going to admit it. “Who do you think you are, telling me what to do? I can ring my bell right now and tell Sorcerer to deal with you-and he will deal very seriously with you.”

The prince snorted. “Do it yourself,” he said, sarcasm hitching in his voice. “You’re big enough.”

Oikawa realized that height was a tetchy subject for the prince. “Anyone would be bigger than you, peasant.” He spat the last word at him.

But the prince only grinned-a sharp, white grin that split his face. “You’re learning,” he said. “I am a peasant.”

“It’s an insult.”

“Not if you know the right peasants.” The prince shrugged. “Anyways, why aren’t you asking about the fairy? Don’t you care about what happened to her after I took her away?”

“What are you talking about?” Oikawa stalked over to his book shelves so he could do something else other than look at the stupid prince.

“What? You almost killed a fairy and then almost got me killed too before I carried her away? You don’t remember yesterday?” The prince had crossed his arms. Oikawa’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve never even touched a fairy. They’re too small and they never come too close to the tower anyways.”

The prince rolled his eyes. “I don’t have any more time. Just stop playing games and tell me what you fed her, or did to her, so I can get part of it so they can make a cure.”

Oikawa was beginning to think he was right in the first place and that the prince was mad. “You’re tiresome,” he told him. “It’s time for you to leave, prince-chan.”

“My name is Iwaizumi, like I told you yesterday dumbass. I can’t leave without the cure, otherwise the fairies would…” the prince exhaled. “Look. I don’t want to be here either, so just help me okay? What happened yesterday with the fairy before you threw me out?”

“Stop talking like we know each other! You’re my very first prince, so behave the way you’re supposed to behave!” Oikawa turned on the prince.

His dark eyes flashed. “For the last time, my name is Iwaizumi. I come from the Peaks.” He tilted his head. “Do you really not remember yesterday?”

Tears of absolute frustration welled up in Oikawa’s eyes.

Iwaizumi looked uncomfortable. “Hey, look, don’t cry. I’ll just get what I need and get out.”

He studied the room, looking from object to object, and surveying the constellation installed up in the tower’s ceiling. He marched up toward Oikawa’s bathtub and up the three steps that left to the rim.

Oikawa rubbed his runny nose and watched him. No prince-or peasant- would journey to the top of his tower if they didn’t want to woo him. And there was no chance he could just forget yesterday. So Iwaizumi was obviously lying. Except-

Except Oikawa knew Iwaizumi wasn’t lying. When Sorcerer lied about something obvious, his eyes darted. Here, Iwaizumi’s eyes stayed steady and strong.

Iwaizumi had one heavy, dirty boot on the rim of the tub and was stretching to Oikawa’s ceiling garden, which he was too short to reach. He gave a disgusted sigh, and then looked back at Oikawa.

“Your arms are way too long,” Iwaizumi said. “Give me one of those roses.”

“You need to leave now, you're irritating me,” Oikawa replied. He walked to the fireplace, and reached for a silver bell that rested on the mantel.

“No, not again!” Iwaizumi leapt from the rim and hurried towards him. “Don’t. Come on, Let me leave first, and then call your sorcerer.”

Oikawa smiled. In the stories it was always satisfying when he called Sorcerer. The princes all showed how cowardly they were, and this one wasn’t any different.

“It’s not funny, Asskawa!” Iwaizumi snapped.

“The words that come out of your mouth make no sense,” Oikawa shook his head, gave Iwaizumi one last disdainful look and rang the bell. Iwaizumi made a noise like he had run out of air. A strong gust of wind rattled through the tower.

“Oikawa!” a flat voice called outside his tower. Oikawa grinned. It was Sorcerer.

Pleased with his own performance, Oikawa pranced to the edge of the balcony and began to turn the crank. For his first time thwarting a prince, he had done so beautifully.

“I can’t believe you,” Iwaizumi groaned. “He’s going to kill me-is that what you want?”

Iwaizumi gave Oikawa a glare before heading towards the window. “Just don’t tell him I was here.”

“I tell Sorcerer everything,” Oikawa smugly kept turning the crank on the wheel.

“I know. That’s how he almost got me last time. Also he caught the prince. He probably killed him, all because he cut your stupid hair.”

Oikawa tensed. “Because he _what_?” When Iwaizumi didn’t answer, Oikawa gave the wheel a furious last crank and watched as his braid go taut-which meant the Sorcerer was climbing. Then he ran after Iwaizumi. “What do you mean he cut my hair? Who touched it? Tell me now, you disgusting little peasant.”

“I’m literally like two inches shorter than you,” Iwaizumi spat, yanking a small round object from one of his pockets.

“You’re not getting away,” Oikawa crossed his arms, distracted by the shiny object. He leaned against the wall to watch Iwaizumi work. “Sorcerer is very fast.”

“So am I,” Iwaizumi slammed the object against the stone wall. There was a loud crack, and Oikawa let out another shriek and jumped back.

“Oikawa? Are you hurt?” Sorcerer’s flat voice was quite close to the top of the tower.

Oikawa couldn’t muster his voice though. There was a glimmering rope erupting from the thing Iwaizumi had slammed into the wall. Iwaizumi tossed it out of the window where one end tumbled down and the other end remained in his hand.

To Oikawa’s amazement, it burst into a tripod of metal claws.

“Oikawa!” Sorcerer would be climbing out of the window at any minute now.

Iwaizumi hooked the claws into railing of the window, gripped the rope, vaulted out of the window and disappeared.

A hand rested on Oikawa’s shoulders. “Who was that? He didn’t look very threatening.”

Oikawa reached out to touch the metal claw that still hung from the window railing. He was dirty, ruffled and short, a thief and a lair. He had spoken of dying fairies and hair-cutting princes. He insulted Oikawa’s hair, and climbed his tower, and he could make fantastic things grow out of his hand.

“Iwaizumi,” Oikawa said. “That was Iwaizumi.”


	2. The Sorcerer

“And then he called me stupid.”

“That was unnecessary.”

“And he said my hair is useless.”

“Well, your hair is sort of unnecessary as well-“

“Sorcerer-chan, just listen to me okay? The guy was a brute, a total, complete barbarian!”

Oikawa tossed the ball up again, and caught it with the tips of his fingers when it came down. It had been an hour since Iwaizumi bolted into the dark forests, and Oikawa laid in his comfortable, downy bed, recounting the whole horrible adventure to Sorcerer.

He tossed the ball again, and caught it before it could fall back on his face.

“You shouldn’t have let him stay here and upset you. I wish you had rung your bell at once,” Sorcerer shifted from his sitting position at the foot of Oikawa’s bed.

“”I didn’t go with him though,” Oikawa said.

“No, you didn’t. Otherwise you wouldn’t be sitting here.”

Oikawa let the rubber ball fall to the ground, and burrowed deeper under his covers.

“Tell me the rest.”

“Well, Iwa-chan was going to take one of my roses from the ceiling garden, but he couldn’t reach it. Then he told me my arms were too long and that I should go get it for him. I didn’t like to be ordered around, of course so I didn’t.”

“Iwa-chan?”

“Iwaizumi is his full name. Too much of a mouthful. I like Iwa-chan much better.”

“Why would this Iwaizumi want your roses?” Sorcerer leaned forward, his olive brown hair falling into his flat eyes.

“He said he was trying to find a cure. For a fairy! He said I hurt it but I’ve never even touched a fairy before.”

“I would like to meet this Iwaizumi,” Sorcerer leaned back again, resting his powerful shoulders on the stone wall behind the bed.

“Why? Are you going to kill him? Iwa-chan said you were gonna kill him.”

 Sorcerer shook his head. “I tried to keep you safe. But I have failed.”

“But I am safe!” Oikawa was dismayed. “Iwa-chan was lying. No one cut my hair. I can prove it!”

“Prove it?” Sorcerer raised a heavy set eyebrow.

“Of course,” Oikawa jumped out of his bed, and hurried to the wheel at the balcony, where he unwound the tail end of his braid. “If Iwa-chan was telling the truth, my hair would be cut.”

“Oikawa-“ Sorcerer was on his feet.

Oikawa untied the end of his brain and pulled apart the tail to expose the end. There, among the tapering wisps of brown, was not what he was expecting.

It had been cut. Someone had hacked off a good six inches of one thick lock of his hair.

“But…,” Oikawa managed, staring at the shorn chunk of hair. “I don’t remember anyone touching my hair.”

Sorcerer’s voice was flatter than ever. “A fairy came here, you said? There’s fairy magic that can steal human memories.”

Oikawa’s hand flew to his mouth. “Steal memories? I thought fairies were useless! All my books say so!”

“Your books are mostly correct, however, there have been little changes here and there. I don’t like to give you the stories that are too frightening so I alter them a little bit.”

“Oh!” said Oikawa, who rather thought his stories were frightening enough. “Good.”

“And since fairies visit near your tower form time to time, I didn’t want to make you afraid. However, one fairy is capable of magic, and he is powerful,” Sorcerer led Oikawa back to his bed.

Oikawa’s skin crawled at the idea of a fairy doing magic on him. “Why haven’t you told me this before?”

“There was no need to. Ever since you were an infant-“

“Where you rescued me from the slums?” Oikawa smiled. He was glad he didn’t grow up in the poorest, diseased infected place there is.

“Yes. Since that day, I’ve put up spells to keep intruders out. If that fairy got through my spells, hee is ill now, or so this Iwaizumi said. He is probably dying. I do not think he will trouble you again,” Sorcerer said as he guided Oikawa back into his bed.

Oikawa flopped onto his bed. “Wow. I’m lucky to have you Sorcerer-chan.”

“Let me fix your hair before I take my leave. It is cut rather in a dreadful manner.” Sorcerer took the end of his hair, slid his broad hand over it, and when he removed his hand, Oikawa’s braid was back perfectly in place.

“Do you wish to forget this Iwaizumi? I can tell he is still troubling your mind,” Sorcerer said when Oikawa didn’t reply.

“I’ll probably forget him by tomorrow,” Oikawa yawned. “I already forgot what happened yesterday.”

“Only because a fairy made you forget.”

“Yes, and I don’t like it.”

“Let me set your mind at ease. If the fairy is ill, it is because of me, and my powers that I have set over this tower as protection. My magic and the fairy’s do not mix very well,” Sorcerer gave a small tight lipped smile.

“Is that why Iwaizumi came for the cure instead of the fairies themselves?”

“Exactly.”

Oikawa curled up in his blankets. “Maybe forgetting is better. The dratted prince won’t leave my mind. He also ruined my window railing.”

“Is that what you would like? To forget?”

The way Sorcerer was talking, was like he could make Oikawa forget, just like the fairy had. The thought of losing his memories made Oikawa’s stomach curdle.

“Why was that fairy here the first place? Was he trying to kill me?”

“Let’s not burden ourselves with unnecessary worries. The fairy most likely came for me,” Sorcerer fixed Oikawa’s windowsill with a wave of a hand.

Oikawa sat up, horror creeping through his veins. “You? He wanted to kill you? But he can’t.”

Sorcerer looked a little alarmed by the way his eyes widened a fraction of an inch. “No, he cannot. You needn’t worry. I am sorry I upset you. Forget the fairy, please.”

Oikawa leaned in closer. “Wait, if your magic makes him sick, can his magic make you sick? How will you defend yourself if the magics don’t mix? Isn’t there something I can do? I could be your emissary, I’m so much taller and cleaner than Iwa-chan-“

“Enough.” Sorcerer’s voice was firm. “Let go of these fears. Do not worry.”

“But I want to help.”

“Then help,” Sorcerer stood up. He looked much tired than normal. There were creases under his eyes now, and Oikawa was surprised by how suddenly they appeared. “Be happy. Don’t worry. That is all I need. I must go now. But I will be nearby. Call if you need assistance.”

“Wait! But, isn’t there anything I could do to help you?”

“The only thing you need to do is be happy. I am much stronger and better when you are not burdened down with worries.” Sorcerer lowered himself down on Oikawa’s braid. “Farewell. Until tomorrow.”

Oikawa watched him lower himself, and the moon glanced off the top of Sorcerer’s head. Either the moonlight was playing tricks, or there were white streaks in Sorcerer’s normally straw brown hair.


	3. Out of the Tower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ushijima is the Sorcerer in case you couldn't tell

Oikawa slept restlessly that night. He woke up sweating and in distress, and he swore he felt that there was someone in his tower.

“Light!” He called in a voice rather shrill with fright.

The fireplace sprang to life at once, shattering the early morning darkness. Oikawa saw a shadow thrown into the light, a shadow with spikey hair.

“I-I know you’re here! Show yourself!” Oikawa’s voice was still annoyingly shrill. He was going to have to find a way to control that.

Iwaizumi stepped out of the shadows he was hiding in, and sheepishly shrugged. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“I’m not scared!”

“Your voice is still two octaves higher than usual. Plus you’re shaking like a leaf. Are you cold?” Iwaizumi was still dressed in his dirty, muddy trousers and his filthy boots and his black jacket. He took a step forward and dry mud fell from his boots.

“Don’t move!” Oikawa jumped up from his bed. “You’re tracking dirt all over my tower, you filthy peasant!”

“So you remember me this time,” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes at Oikawa’s outburst. “Well I just came to visit. Don’t mind me.”

“Get out of my tower!” Oikawa stretched a hand towards his bell, but then stopped. He remembered the tiredness in Sorcerer’s flat eyes when Oikawa was agitated. He remembered the winces that Sorcerer gave when Oikawa was worried. He didn’t want to trouble the Sorcerer. He would handle this himself, to keep Sorcerer safe.

Iwaizumi was filthing up his tower! Oikawa ran up to the peasant, and jerked hard on the hood of his jacket.

Iwaizumi doubled back, clutching his neck in pain. “What the hell Asskawa?”

“I said you need to get out of my tower! Why are you here again? To bring more disgusting fairies to kill Sorcerer? Well, you can’t! So get out!” Oikawa slammed both his hands into Iwaizumi’s broad chest so hard, Iwaizumi stumbled back and hit the edge of the balcony.

With a gasp of surprise, Iwaizumi lost his balance and tumbled over the side, but one hand managed to grab onto a black rope that was already there.

That was probably how he got up here the first place, Oikawa scowled. He stalked over to where Iwaizumi was still clutching the rope, ready to give him a piece of his mind.

Suddenly the black rope shimmered, and Iwaizumi yelped.

Within a second, the rope shimmered into nothing-it vanished. Iwaizumi tried to grab the edge of the balcony’s railing, missed, and fell towards the ground.

The hard ground, a hundred feet below.

Oikawa was running before he knew what he was doing. He had unwound his hair from the wheel yesterday when he was too restless to sleep, and he threw part of his unwound hair over the balcony to Iwaizumi.

When Iwaizumi grabbed his braid, Oikawa was pulled forward, and his body slammed into the edge of the railing. He let out a shout of pain before grabbing the railing so he wouldn’t fall himself.

His scalp was on fire, and his neck felt like it was being torn off his shoulders.

“Hurry!” Oikawa let out a whimper as Iwaizumi shifted his weight and scaled up his braid effortlessly.

In less than three seconds, Iwaizumi had vaulted over the railing, breathing hard.

Oikawa fell back, grabbing at his braid, gritting his teeth in pain.

“I guess I knew better than to come with a magic rope that was in use for over thirty hours. Usually I’m lucky, it lasts for three days,” Iwaizumi scratched the back of his head. “But I didn’t want to buy a new one.”

Oikawa tilted his head. He had the feeling Iwaizumi was hiding something, he could tell from the way Iwaizumi was avoiding his eyes. He didn’t respond however, hurriedly reeling in his hair. He had let another person touch his hair. He had let this filthy, low ground dweller to touch his hair.

Iwaizumi cleared his throat. “But thanks. You have fast reflexes for someone who’s never left a tower.”

Oikawa blinked at Iwaizumi. Then he sniffed in disdain. “Sure, Iwa-chan. Now get out of my tower before I throw you over again.”

Iwaizumi flinched. “Iwa-chan?”

“Iwaizumi is kind of a mouthful, don’t you think?” Oikawa lugged his heavy hair onto the balcony. “Now go away.”

“Anyways," Iwaizumi shook his head, as if shaking off the nickname. "Can I come in? I want to see the tower one last time-please. It’s really pretty.” Iwaizumi was already heading inside.

Oikawa felt a surge of pity. Iwaizumi was a filthy ground dweller, of course he had never seen anything as pretty as his tower. He followed Iwaizumi inside to make sure he hadn’t touched anything of his.

Iwaizumi hasn’t. He was looking up at the star filled ceiling, at the painted stone walls, and at the marbled and gleaming bathtub.

“What about the fairies, huh?” Oikawa couldn’t resist asking. “Is he dead yet?”

Iwaizumi gave Oikawa a look. “Fairies? What fairies?”

“So they took your memory too! Those nasty no good-“

“Can I have one of your roses?” Iwaizumi interrupted, staring up at the ceiling garden. He turned his eyes onto Oikawa. Oikawa realized with a jolt that Iwaizumi’s eyes are actually a dark olive green. “Please? It’s so…well, you know.”

Oikawa felt suspicious. He studied Iwaizumi’s body language, before he decided that the reason Iwaizumi’s face looked so pained was because he really wanted a beautiful rose when the outside world was so ugly.

“Beautiful?” Oikawa felt another surge of pity. He bet Iwaizumi never had the luxury of enjoying such beauty in his normal life. “You’re not going to give it to the fairy that wanted to kill Sorcerer, are you?”

Iwaizumi gave Oikawa that same look, slanted eyes in confusion, mouth twisted in a question. “Fairies? Why do you keep talking about fairies?”

So they did take his memory too!

Oikawa sighed, and trooped up the steps onto the bathtub rim. He stretched upwards, slinging his long arms upwards and plucked a single, red rose from his ceiling garden.

He turned, and presented it to Iwaizumi with a flourish. “Ta-da! Smell it. It smells wonderful too.”

Iwaizumi wasn’t listening though. He looked at the flower, turning it this way and that, and reached into the pocket of his jacket. He pulled out a vial, and with a twist of his fingers, he collected a few droplets of the dew from the rose.

“What are you-“ Oikawa’s voice died in his throat when Iwaizumi let the rose drop, and pocketed the vial.

Iwaizumi gave Oikawa a loopy smile. “The fairies told me to thank you if you helped, so…thanks.”

“Fairies…? You-!” Oikawa’s confusion turned into rage when he realized Iwaizumi was lying. He knew it! He should’ve noticed, but Iwaizumi was a good lair.

Sorcerer had warned him about how the ground dwellers lied! Oikawa was furious. He can’t believe he let himself be tricked.

Iwaizumi was heading for the balcony. “Well, I best be going-“

Oikawa lunged for Iwaizumi before he could finish his sentence. Iwaizumi wasn’t expecting a straight attack, and he caught Oikawa’s body with his chest and fell back from the force.

“Oof! Shittykawa, we’re gonna-!”

“You lair! You dirty, stupid, lying peasant!” Oikawa shrieked, slamming into Iwaizumi. “I won’t let you give that to the fairies!”

“Oikawa, let go! We’re going to fall!”

Too late, Oikawa realized that they were pinned, and leaning over the railing of the balcony. “You let go!” Oikawa pawed at Iwaizumi’s hands, which were entangled in the collar of his shirt.

Iwaizumi slammed his hip under Oikawa’s and flipped him with such force Oikawa crashed onto the stone floor.

Then he fished out a silver shiny round object again, and smashed it against the balcony railing. A black glimmering rope exploded out again, and Iwaizumi hooked it into the railing. Oikawa’s mouth curled. He knew Iwaizumi was at least lying about the part of not having another rope-the way Iwaizumi’s eyes didn’t quite meet his when he was talking gave that away.

“You’re going to ruin the railing again!” Oikawa picked himself up, his back sore from the impact.

Iwaizumi let out a sigh. “Fine!”

He grabbed an armful of Oikawa’s hair and threw it over the balcony. The weight of Oikawa’s plummeting hair pulled at his scalp, causing him to shout in surprise.

“Don’t touch my hair!” Oikawa wanted to slam into Iwaizumi again, but his back still ached from the last time he did so.

Iwaizumi hurdled over the railing, and his weight yanked Oikawa to the edge of the balcony, the edge of the railing pressing up against his stomach. His head bent under Iwaizumi’s weight, but Iwaizumi was graceful and quickly scaled down his braid, keeping the majority of his weight off Oikawa’s hair.

“Oh, and,” Iwaizumi paused when he was on the ground. “If you want the fairy’s cure, you better come down and get it yourself. If you call that sorcerer, you know he’ll get hurt.”

Then he disappeared into the surrounding forest.

Panic seized Oikawa. He couldn't let Iwaizumi give the cure to the powerful fairy. He grabbed the metal tripod of the rope Iwaizumi left behind, and hooked it into the railing of the balcony. He winced as the claws tore into the beautiful silver railing. He swung one leg over it, then another. He looked down and almost choked. The ground was so far away.

But he needed that cure, otherwise the powerful fairy was going to get better again and kill Sorcerer.

The weight of his hair hung down from his scalp, craning his neck backwards. The rope was splintery and rough despite how velvety it looked. He swallowed a gasp of discomfort and began to lower himself down, the soles of his feet pressed against the tower’s outer wall.

His arms ached, his neck throbbed, his fingers burned, and his sweaty palms slipped against the rope-

Oikawa lost his grip and his footing all at once and a screech tore out of his throat as he slid uncontrollably downward. Wind rushed in his ears and he clamped his legs together and caught the rope between them. He immediately clamped his hands around the rope as well. As he skidded a few feet downward, the rope tore into the skin of his hands, and the rope dug into his skin until he dropped onto the plush, soft grass of the ground.

The ground. Oikawa looked up, and the height of his tower was dizzying. He wanted to call out for Sorcerer, but he couldn’t. Not until he retrieved the cure.

He slowly picked his aching body up from the ground. Then he whirled towards the woods and ran after Iwaizumi.

He plunged through the forest, and tree branches dug into his skin. There was no time to mind the pain, or to fear the beasts, or to notice the sensation of the open, balmy air, or to even wonder if he was going the right way. Iwaizumi had a huge head start.

“WRETCHED, MISERABLE PEASENT!” he finally yelled when his hair brought him to a painful halt. It was caught somewhere back in the trees. He gripped it with both torn, bloody hands and pulled, but it was snagged. Iwaizumi was getting further away with every moment.

“IWA-CHAN! IWAIZUMI! YOU LYING, THEIVING BRUTE!”

He really was stuck. Panic wormed itself into Oikawa’s lungs and tears of frustration dribbled down his cheeks. “DEFORMED TROLL! _UGLY LITTLE SPIKE-HAIRED IMP_!”

“Ah, shut up.”

Oikawa clutched his hair to his chest and whirled around, until he found the source of the familiar voice. Iwaizumi knelt several paces away, grimacing as he dug his bare hands into a thorny plant to work Oikawa’s hair out of its prison.

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa’s voice was ragged from shouting.

“You are the loudest person I’ve ever met,” Iwaizumi let out a disgusted sigh as he worked deeper into the bush. “And your hair is impossibly knotted in this bush.”

Oikawa felt a bit lightheaded. He wasn’t sure how or why, but he stared in horror at his hair. It used to always be clean, shiny and glimmered when the sun hit it. Now it was as battered and dirty as Iwaizumi’s hands.

“Get it out!” Oikawa wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

Iwaizumi didn’t reply, only hissing with pain as the thorns dug into his hands. “I can’t get your hair out. It’s knotted as hell.”

“What do you mean you can’t get it out? Cut the bush!” Oikawa walked over to the bush, and realized that Iwaizumi was right. A good six feet of his hair had been wound and tangled by the thorns of the plant.

The plant’s roots were thicker than the width of two of Iwaizumi’s arms when Oikawa took a closer look. Sawing through them would take quite a while, he realized as he knelt down next to the bush. Helplessness twisted Oikawa’s throat.

He suddenly saw the morning sun glancing off a long silver dagger in Iwaizumi’s hand.

“WAIT, NO-!” Oikawa realized too late what Iwaizumi was trying to do.

With a single, strong, fluid stroke, Iwaizumi’s knife slid through Oikawa’s golden brown braid near his neck.

Oikawa’s head never felt lighter, and the wind glanced off his neck for the first time in a long time. His heartbeat vibrated in his chest as he stared down at the mess of his shorn off braid.

His hundred feet of hair was all gone. His gorgeous, long hair was all cut off. It lay on the floor next to his feet, and Oikawa's heartbeat began to vibrate in his ears.

“Well, that takes care of the problem. You’re free now-“

Oikawa let out a howl of fury before he turned and lunged at Iwaizumi for the second time of the day.

“YOU-!”

“You were gonna be stuck if I didn’t! Oi! OI!” Iwaizumi fell back, grabbing Oikawa’s wrist and holding them away from his face.

“I-My-YOU-!” Oikawa was so furious he couldn’t form coherent words.

“It’s hair! It’ll grow back!” Iwaizumi wrestled Oikawa away.

“It took a whole _year_ to grow! _Dirty_! _Stupid_! _Peasant_!”

Oikawa shifted over until he was curled up on his stomach, bawling.

“You can get your sorcerer to grow it back for you, can’t you?” Iwaizumi asked after a couple of minutes. His voice was awkward but gentle.

“If it grew too fast, he-he said it was going to deplete my nutrition,” Oikawa hiccupped. He sat up and furiously wiped at his eyes. "That's why it took a year to grow."

 Then an idea struck him so suddenly he jumped. A memory of Sorcerer reattaching the windowsill rushed through his head.

“But I can get him to reattach it, I think!” Oikawa was on his feet, feeling much, much better as soon as he thought of that idea. He could save his hair. There was still hope.

Iwaizumi was watching with an incredulous look on his face. “Your moods change so fast-“

“Cut my hair. Cut it so that the six feet of hair in the bush remains in the bush, but the rest is still okay,” Oikawa demanded Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi raised his hands in mock surrender. “Whatever you say.”

“You,” Oikawa’s eyes flashed. “You broke into my tower. You stole, you lied, and you tricked me. You have not only put the only person that cares about me in trouble, but you have also destroyed all of my beautiful, gorgeous hair. You have ruined everything in my life, so of course, we will do what I say." 

There was an uncomfortable silence where Iwaizumi watched Oikawa with eyes he couldn’t read.

“Listen,” Iwaizumi pointed his dagger at Oikawa. “You don’t know anything. You only know what that sorcerer wants you to know. Have you ever wondered if your sorcerer was hurting other people? Maybe that’s why the fairies want to stop him. As for your hair? That’s fifty pounds of unnecessary weight you are carrying around. You’ll never get your cure back like that.”

Oikawa surprised himself with a heavy tiredness he’s never felt before. Not physical exhaustion, but an emotional one, where a heavy feeling settled like a stone block in his lower chest.

“Don’t you dare blame Sorcerer,” Oikawa finally said. “He never did anything to a fairy.”

“Then why did one of them almost die just from being in you tower?”

“That was the fairy’s own fault! She should’ve never pushed her way in!”

“Fine,” Iwaizumi shrugged. “Have it you way. But if you want the cure, you’re gonna have to follow me to the Karasuno area. I already gave it to a fairy. He was waiting for me.”

“Where is he?” Oikawa whipped his body around in fear, but he saw nothing but the sun glinting through the trees.

“He flew ahead to give it to his mate.”

“His what?”

“The fairy who’s dying. He went to save his life.”

“We have to hurry! Cut my hair, quick!”

“Alright princess,” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time today. “We’ll have to carry your stupid hair. Give me half; you’ll take forever if you try to haul it yourself.”

Soon Iwaizumi had hacked off the hair that was tangled in the plant, and he dragged it over and dumped it at Oikawa’s feet.

Oikawa wanted to cry again. His hair was shorn at both ends, and had sticks and rocks stuck in it. It was still braided though, and Oikawa thought it still shone a little when the sun touched it.

That will have to do, Oikawa sighed, as he picked up one end of his hair. He wound it around Iwaizumi’s shoulders. He crisscrossed it over his back, sashed it around his chest and twined it around his waist like hairy, brown armor. Iwaizumi’s head stuck out of the mess of hair, looking red and angry.

“I said half,” Iwaizumi barked.

Oikawa couldn’t help but let out a little giggle. “Iwa-chan is so helpful! Now lead the way.”

As they set off deeper into the forest, Oikawa remembered something. “You remember the day I forgot,” he said to Iwaizumi. “Don’t you? The whole fairy getting sick thing, the prince cutting my hair, and the breaking into my tower again?”

“Maybe,” Iwaizumi sliced Oikawa a contemptuous look.

“Tell me the story!” Oikawa said eagerly. It bothered him beyond belief that there was a blank just sitting like a dead weight in his head.

 "You won't believe me." 

"No! Tell me anyways! I want to know!" 

“Fine! Come see for yourself,” Iwaizumi responded, veering into a dark, dense thicket.

Oikawa couldn’t see very well in this place. He trailed after Iwaizumi based on sound, but then he walked into something hard and cold.

“Ouch! Iwa-chan, where-“

Oikawa stopped cold as he took a closer look at what he bumped into. There, in the dim light the trees had mostly blocked out, was a man.

The man was made of stone.


	4. the Outside World

Oikawa yelped, and stumbled back from the horrible statue. “He’s real,” he said. He wasn’t sure how he could tell, but there was no doubt in his mind.

“Yeah he’s real. He’s Prince Bokuto of the Fukurodani Kingdom.”

He looked exactly like the princes in Oikawa’s storybooks. Except his hair-it was spikey and some parts were darker than others-but he was broad, muscular and the way he held himself let Oikawa know that this was definitely a prince.

“Prince who?” Oikawa touched the statue carefully. It was cold and hard, like stone.

“Prince Bokuto. You must be the only person in Japan who doesn’t know who he is,” Iwaizumi shook his head.

“Is he dead? Can he see us?”

“Who knows? Your sorcerer went after him.”

Oikawa swept his eyes over the prince. He was so lifelike Oikawa thought he was going to blink his owlish eyes and spring to life at any minute. The prince had a billowing cape, a broad chest cloaked in something Oikawa couldn’t make out, and the veins stood out in his strong forearms. One hand was flung up before his face. In his grip, something golden brown glinted. Something not stone.

His hair.

So Iwaizumi was actually telling the truth after all.

“Sorcerer wouldn’t do something like this. And if he did, it was to protect me. After all, the prince could’ve easily killed me, if he was able to get close enough to cut my hair,” Oikawa touched the prince’s cape.

He flinched back. “Iwa-chan.”

“Hmm?” Iwaizumi had already turned to leave. “What?”

“The prince. He’s warm now.”

Iwaizumi turned back around. “What? No way.”

But the prince was melting. Oikawa screamed and leapt away as the stone peeled off of the Prince like a mask, dripping off like hot wax.

The man’s stone eyes became golden, his hair became white with black streaks, and his blue and gold cape fluttered in the wind. Then he abruptly face planted on the grassy ground.

After a few minutes were Iwaizumi looked as if he had just swallowed a lemon, the Prince stirred.

“Ouuchhh,” a long groan came from the prince. Oikawa had hidden behind Iwaizumi, and once he decided the prince wasn’t a danger, he curiously peeked out.

“What the hell?” Iwaizumi sounded as shocked as Oikawa felt.

“Man, my bones feel like they’ve been fused together,” the prince flopped onto his back, and stretched his arms high above his head. Then he caught sight of Oikawa and Iwaizumi.

“Hey, hey, he-holy shit, you’re that boy in the tower!” Prince Bokuto sat up, his wide golden eyes intrigued. “How the hell did you get out? That sorcerer was a nasty one for sure, I can’t believe he caught me! I thought I was fast enough!”

Prince Bokuto pouted for a moment. Then he brightened again. “Well, I think I need to go. Akaashi’s probably worrying, I had kinda said I wasn't actually gonna go to the tower...Can you tell me where I am?”

Oikawa was overwhelmed. Prince Bokuto seemed to blast through several moods in a few seconds, and he went through several subjects just as fast.

“Uh, well, you’re just a little west of Karasuno. Are you okay Your Highness?” Iwaizumi clumsily bowed as low as he could while he was still engulfed in Oikawa’s hair.

Prince Bokuto beamed at the words “Your Highness”. “Ah, no need to call me that! Thanks! Come and visit me and tell me how you got the boy out of the tower. I really gotta go man, Akaashi’s gonna murder me once he realizes I actually left.” Prince Bokuto then dropped his voice. “I didn’t actually tell Akaashi I was going to try and get the boy out.”

Oikawa could only stare, speechless. The second stranger he’s met, and he’s definitely strange. He was loud, steamrolled with his words like a boulder, and the way he carried himself commanded attention. Were all ground dwellers this scary?

“Well, I’ll be off! Come visit me! I'm serious!” Prince Bokuto winked at Oikawa before taking off in the opposite direction of the woods.

A silence ensured.

“Well,” Iwaizumi broke the silence, turning back to the path they originally came from. “I think you’re infused with some of the sorcerer’s magic or something, because once you touched him, he melted.”

“I’m not magical at all! Sorcerer said I’m human and therefore can’t retain any magic.”

“Well living around him for so long you’re bound to pick up some magic here and there. Let’s go,” Iwaizumi led Oikawa back on track.

“Wait! Tell me the story of that day!” Oikawa ran after Iwaizumi.

“You won’t believe me.”

“Selfish peasant!”

“Spoiled brat.”

“What does that mean?” Oikawa tripped over a root.

“It means you,” said Iwaizumi. “Tell the story, tell the story!” He screeched, imitating Oikawa. “Eight year olds are more mature than you.”

“Mature?”

“Oh for Christ’s sake,” Iwaizumi blew out a breath. “Fine. I was trying to find the fairies of Karasuno, but instead I found your tower. I thought it was magic-“

“It is.”

Iwaizumi gave him a look. “Are you going to say something every five seconds?”

Oikawa pressed his mouth close.

“I stayed back in the trees, and I could see a man standing on the ground by the tower. I didn’t know it was Prince Bokuto, I just saw him holding onto your hair.”

“I would never let my braid down for a prince!” Oikawa batted at some low tree branches away from his face.

“It wasn’t in a braid,” Iwaizumi said. “It was all spread out and hanging over the railing and stuff.”

This made sense, and Oikawa nodded. “Sorcerer washed it that morning and hung it out to dry before he left,” he said. “I remember that.”

“Congratulations. So while I was watching, Prince Bokuto cut a piece of your hair off.”

“Evil!”

“It’s just hair,” Iwaizumi sighed from inside the nest of Oikawa’s hair, “and you have plenty to spare. But you screamed like he had stabbed you or something, and you started pulling all your hair up into the tower really fast. Prince Bokuto ran for it, right past me, into the woods, yelling something about a sorcerer. So I ran too, because you don’t want to mess with sorcerers, but I didn’t get very far before Daichi stopped me.”

“Daichi?”

“The fairy who needed my help. Stop interrupting!” said Iwaizumi. “So, while the prince was cutting your hair, apparently Daichi’s mate was climbing up it.”

“A fairy was climbing my _hair_?!”

“Yeah. He couldn’t fly into your tower, because the magic in there was too thick and he couldn’t use his wings. But he wanted to talk to you.”

“He was climbing up to kill Sorcerer!” Oikawa gasped. “When did you get there?”

“Right after that,” Iwaizumi kicked a small boulder out of the trail. “Daichi was panicked. You pulled up your hair while his mate was still climbing, and he didn’t come back or give him any kind of sign. He was afraid he was gonna die, so he asked me to go get him.”

Oikawa picked his way over a fallen log, listening hard. It was just as Sorcerer told him. “Fairy and sorcerer magic don’t mix,” he ventured.

“Right,” Iwaizumi said. “Daichi said the sorcerer who protects you is more powerful than any sorcerer or witch in Japan, and if I wasn’t quick enough, he’d kill me. But he also said if I helped his mate, I’d repay him of the debt I was in. So I obviously couldn’t say no.”

Oikawa prodded him onward in his tale. “So you climbed up to my tower?”

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi glanced at him. “Daichi’s mate was lying on your dressing table, in the middle of a bunch of rose petals and you were trying to talk to him.”

“What did he say?”

“He couldn’t talk back. He was really sick.”

“So Daichi’s mate is the powerful fairy,” Oikawa mused. “And he’s the one who needs the cure.”

Iwaizumi frowned at him. “What do you mean ‘powerful fairy?’”

“Sorcerer told me one of the fairies have really powerful magic.”

“Just one?” he said, and he laughed. “There are probably a thousand Karasuno fairies.”

That unsettled Oikawa. He had imagined a dozen fairies at the most. “So then what happened?”

“You gave me a handkerchief to wrap him up in so I could carry him away. And then,” Iwaizumi said, with feeling, “you rang your stupid bell, even though I told you not to. I told you the sorcerer would kill me, but you were still upset about your hair, so you rang the bell. This meant I had to run, and that sorcerer came after me pretty fast. He would’ve caught me, but Daichi whisked me away.”

Oikawa trudged forward, still thinking. The outside world was so big. Without a ceiling or walls, the ground continued forever. The air was so hot and humid, unlike anything in the tower. A rustling in the bushes to the left of the path made both Oikawa and Iwaizumi freeze.

A slender animal with wide, luminous eyes stared at Oikawa. He screamed in terror, and the toast colored beast leapt out of the thicket and dashed away, followed closely by a smaller beast of the same color.

“Ground monsters!” exclaimed Oikawa. “Vicious, gluttonous beasts! Will they eat us?”

“They’re deer, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi snorted, clearly trying not to laugh.

Oikawa sat down on a nearby log, and ran his hands through his newly short hair. It felt so strange to just do that, the way his hair left his hands after a mere second of sliding.

“What are you doing? We can’t stop to rest,” Iwaizumi poked Oikawa with his foot. “That stupid sorcerer is gonna catch up and rip my head off.”

“His name is _Sorcerer_ ,” Oikawa said. “He's not stupid at all. And he wouldn’t tear your head off. He would just be angry with you for worrying me. Can’t you understand that? Don’t you have anyone who cares for you?”

“I have parents,” Iwaizumi scoffed. “Like normal people do.”

“Well, whatever parents are, they must not love you very much,” Oikawa shook his head to feel his short hair ruffle. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be so awful.”

Iwaizumi’s face fell. For a short second, he looked young and lost, and then his face hardened like stone. He unwound Oikawa’s hair from his chest and dropped it on the ground. Then he unwound his hair from his shoulders. Oikawa looked on in distress.

“You can’t do that!” he said. “I can’t carry it all. Wind it back up.”

Iwaizumi struggled out of the last few coils of hair and shoved the braid down to the ground. He stepped away and brushed himself off. He adjusted his boots, cracked his neck and strode into the clearing and away from Oikawa, who sat, anchored by his shorn off braid, unsure of what to do.

“You can’t leave me here,” Oikawa said, surprised.

Iwaizumi stopped at the edge of the clearing. “No,” he said, his voice low. “But I wouldn’t spend another second with you if I didn’t have to.”

Oikawa was prevented from telling him he felt the same way by a humming noise that suddenly seemed to be everywhere. “What is that?”

Iwaizumi was looking around.

“Iwa-chan, what is that-“

“Silence, prisoner child.”

The voice was firm and cool. Oikawa spotted a silver of light no bigger than his thumb hovered in the air at eye level.

“I am here to take you where you must go. Now, follow.” Without warning, the sliver of light darted out of sight and into the trees, leaving a trail of black and orange in its wake.

“A fairy,” Oikawa breathed.

“That’s Daichi,” Iwaizumi was by Oikawa’s side. “C’mon, hurry.” Without looking at him, he bent and pulled a good amount of Oikawa’s braid into his arms. Oikawa did the same, and they hurried across the clearing and into the woods.

The woods had a strange, thick mist to it. He felt there was something odd about this mist, even though he really didn’t have much interaction with mists.

“What is this?” Oikawa asked. The mist swirled with a sweet scent, settling on Oikawa’s tongue.

“It’s a fairylight. It’s how fairies travel. It’s like a portal.”

“I’ve read about portals!” Oikawa excitedly said. He was going to say more but when they walked out of the mist, he balked.

There was a floor covered in roses. Beautiful, dark, ripe roses that were so alive they almost pulsed. But he recognized these roses; Sorcerer grew a different type of these very roses in his ceiling garden.

“Wait,” Iwaizumi hissed. “The fairies can’t get through the dune of flowers. We have to go underground.”

“You’ve been here before,” Oikawa noticed.

Before Iwaizumi could respond, a voice cut through their conversation. “Iwaizumi. You are welcome here. It is rare that we would bring mortals through the fairylight, but you have earned your passage.”

It came from a little fairy who was standing on a branch of a low tree. Now that he stood still, Oikawa could see he had large moon-white wings and black hair that was cropped short. He wore a black leaf for his trousers and had a sash of orange silk around his chest, pinned at his hip with a silver ring. A leather brown pouch hung around the silver ring.

Iwaizumi dipped his head. “I brought him like you asked, Daichi,” he said, not quite looking at Oikawa. “I gave him all the help that was in my power.”

Oikawa reeled. He knew he’d been somehow played, but this was far worse than he had realized. The fairies told Iwaizumi to bring him, and so he had left the rope on the railing on purpose, to give him a way to get down- and then he had taunted him and made Oikawa follow him.

_"Y-You tricked me?"_

"Sorry."

“Did you even need the cure?” Oikawa turned on Iwaizumi. “Or was that another lie?”

Daichi laughed, and Oikawa thought it was strange for him to have such a warm laugh. “The cure for magic ills must include a drop of what caused it in the first place. The dew was necessary, and effective. Koushi’s awake.”

Oikawa’s heart plummeted. If the powerful fairy was awake, then he had failed Sorcerer in every single way.

“I’m going to bring you to him-he wanted to speak with you,” Daichi reached into his pouch. “Don’t be startled by what happens.”

“No!” Oikawa was breathing fast, his mind running through possibilities of what to do now. “You can’t bring me to your mate! He’s gonna hurt Sorcerer!”

Daichi paid him no attention however; he dipped his fingers into his pouch, and snapped them. Oikawa’s lungs immediately grew tight, and his body crushed in on himself. The low trees around them shot up to an alarming height, and then his vision flashed.

When his lungs and vision were restored, Oikawa fell into himself, gasping and spitting. He gasped again when he saw he was kneeling on a giant, green leaf, even bigger than his bed in the tower.

Two strong hands snaked under his arms and hoisted him up. Iwaizumi hauled Oikawa up, his expression determined. “Get up. Daichi’s here.”

Daichi landed lightly before them, and Oikawa took a step back as his features came into sharp focus for the first time. He looked human, except he had strange patterns marked all over his right arm in red ink. He was also shorter, Oikawa realized as he looked down at him.

“You shrank me?” Oikawa pushed Iwaizumi away. “You can do magic?”

Daichi smiled. “Of course I can. All fairies can do magic.”

Oikawa took another step back. Sorcerer had told Oikawa only one powerful fairy to worry about, but there were several. In fact, according to Daichi, all of them were capable of magic. He had to get home. He had to warn Sorcerer.

He turned to run, but smacked into Iwaizumi.

“Whoa,” Iwaizumi steadied him again, like he had never tricked Oikawa in the first place. “I know it feels weird the first time, but you’ll get used to it. You won’t stay like this forever, you know.”

“It’s time for you to enter Karasuno. Koushi’s waiting for you,” Daichi motioned for Oikawa to come.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Oikawa said. He meant to say it furiously, but it came out sounding small and afraid. He couldn’t steal back the cure, and the powerful fairy was already awake. He had failed Sorcerer, and he could not fix his mistake. Not by himself.

The only thing left to do was to go home.

As Oikawa opened his mouth to call for Sorcerer, a shock of immense pain erupted in his lungs and ran up into his brain, sharp and hot, making his ears ring. It felt like fire had flashed through her throat, making his eyes water with pain.

He fell to his knees on the giant green leaf, clutching his throat with his hand.

“If you call the sorcerer,” Daichi said quietly. “I will have to kill you. I don’t want to, but if you bring that sorcerer here, he will destroy our home and our families. I was sworn to bring you to Koushi, and I will. But if you call that sorcerer, I will kill you.”

His words were firm and contained remorse in them-but also contained a threat Oikawa knew he was going to carry out.

Oikawa opened his mouth again to cry for Sorcerer, but his voice was gone. It appeared Daichi now held it in his fist.

“Go,” Daichi dipped his head.

Iwaizumi apparently heard none of this. “Come on,” he called, waving to him. He was next to a tree trunk and Oikawa realized there was a small hole in it. Oikawa glanced over his shoulder to find Daichi behind him. He glared at him, since that was all that he could do.

“Prepare yourself, prisoner child,” Daichi motioned for Oikawa to follow Iwaizumi.

So Oikawa did; he followed Iwaizumi through the hole and into the darkness below the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have time to leave a comment, please do! I love hearing feedback. :)


	5. Please Don't Kill Me

The hole in the tree led them into a long, narrow passageway lit by small cages of twined copper threads that glowed with strange light. Oikawa wanted to stop and examine them, but Iwaizumi didn’t seem to have any intention of stopping. The presence of Daichi behind him also propelled him forward.

Daichi overtook Iwaizumi in the lead, opened his fist, and Oikawa felt his voice rushing back into his throat. “You won’t be able to summon the sorcerer here,” Daichi said to him. “We’ve also got magic of our own. Oh, and there’s your hair. Iwaizumi mentioned it was important to you.” 

With a swipe of his fingers, Oikawa’s shorn off hair dumped itself out of thin air at his feet. 

Daichi flew forward, and Iwaizumi and Oikawa followed behind, each taking as much hair as they could carry. Oikawa’s throat still throbbed with pain, and he hugged his braid for comfort. “I feel sick.” 

“Probably the magic,” Iwaizumi shifted the bundle of hair around in his arms. “Fairy and sorcerer stuff don’t mix. You’ve been around that sorcerer for so long, you’re probably covered in it.” 

“Then why can’t I magic stuff?” 

“Because you’re human. You like, passively carry the magic around with you, but you can’t use it because you’re not a sorcerer,” Iwaizumi explained. 

Oikawa really wanted to call for Sorcerer. He felt terrified of meeting a thousand Karasuno fairies who all probably wanted him dead for hurting their powerful fairy. But no matter how much he whispered, “Sorcerer, come get me. Sorcerer, please for goodness sake, come get me,” he never came. 

“Help me Iwa-chan,” Oikawa suddenly stopped as they neared the end of the tunnel. “I’m scared. They want to kill me.” 

“What? No they don’t.” 

“Yes they do, I just know it-“ 

Iwaizumi’s steady presence next to Oikawa was suddenly thrust aside by several pairs of hands that came out of nowhere. The hands seized Oikawa and yanked him forwards into their grasp. He screamed and thrashed as they dragged him past Iwaizumi and into the dim light out of the tunnel. 

“Ouch!” One voice hissed. “Stupid brat kicked me!”

“Ow! Stop moving-“

“LET ME GO!” Oikawa shrieked in anger and fear. “SORCERER, SORCERER, HELP ME-“

“Silence!” One fairy voice shouted. 

“Kill him!” shouted another. “End it here!”

Oikawa felt new fear tingling through his veins, and his mind raced. He curled into a ball, and then suddenly lashed out again, twisting in their grasp. Several hands lost their grip as Oikawa tumbled to the soft, earthy ground. 

He was on his feet, hissing and spitting. “SORCERER!” He shrieked again, turning back to the tunnel, ready to run. “SORCERER-“ 

Suddenly Oikawa’s detached braid whipped around him in tight coils, gagging him and pinning his arms to his sides. His hair tasted like dirt and he choked, his eyes watering as he frantically tried to escape. 

Daichi descended down into Oikawa’s line of vision. “You know we cannot kill the boy.”

Green grass as tall as tress surrounded him, and the morning sun was beginning to peak in the sky, glinting off the fairy’s wings. They were all like Daichi, human-like but with big, reflecting wings, dressed in black with orange sashes. 

“Bring him to Centercourt,” Daichi said, flitting away. 

Iwaizumi followed Daichi, looking anxious, which made Oikawa more afraid. The end of Oikawa’s hair hung from him like a leash, and the other fairies dragged him forward to follow Daichi. He tripped, and then tried to get up, but it was impossible without his hands to help him. The fairies yanked him to his feet, choking him with his hair in the process, and they flew onward, bringing him stumbling behind them. 

Soon, they stood in a wide open space around which almost a thousand fairies stood muttering and watching him. The fairies dragged him to the center of it and lashed him to it with the remainder of his hair. Then they backed into the crowd, and Oikawa stood trapped, unable to even cry out, his heart beating as fast as Daichi’s wings. 

This was worse than anything that had ever happened in his books, and he had no hope of being saved by Sorcerer. 

He looked of Iwaizumi, and found him standing behind Daichi, looking more anxious than ever.

“Destroy him!” cried on fairy voice. “While we have the chance!”

“We must save ourselves!” 

“He is the source of ruin!” 

The voices chimed together until it seemed like the entire glade clamored for Oikawa to be killed on the spot. 

“No!” Iwaizumi roared. The fairies fell silent for a minute, staring at Iwaizumi, who was breathing rather heavily with a furious expression on his face. 

“No,” a weak voice cut through the morning. “Let me see him.” 

The fairies parted in front of Oikawa, revealing a black marble dais on which a fairy was wearing a pale blue sheath rested in what appeared to be a large cupped hand made of clay. His hair was a duller color of the clouds in the sky, and one of his wings were a brilliant blue. The other one hung, dull gray and broken, down to the ground. 

The fairy tried to sit forward, but was too weak. He stretched one hand towards Daichi, who flew to him and clasped it at once. With his other hand, he supported him and helped him to sit up. Oikawa met eyes with the sick fairy, breathing hard against his gag. 

“Poor prisoner child,” the fairy breathed. “Daichi, untie him.” 

“Suga, if I let him go, and he runs, or strikes out-“

“Untie him,” repeated Suga. “He has nowhere to run, and he cannot harm us here. He doesn’t even know his crime. To bind him like this is senseless and cruel.”

“Compassion blinds you,” another fairy put in. “He wants you dead. This is a matter of survival.” 

The silver haired fairy had kind eyes with a black spot underneath one eye. He made a motion in the air and Oikawa’s hair tumbled to the ground. He fell to his knees and hands, one hand grabbing at his throat again, retching and coughing. 

“He shows you kindness,” the same fairy spat. “After you broke him and left him to die. You poisoned him!”

“I didn’t!” Oikawa coughed again, his throat feeling like someone had ran a knife down it. “I’ve never seen him before!” 

“Yes, you have,” Iwaizumi’s voice was quiet. “You just don’t remember it.” 

Oikawa retched again, tears streaming down his face from the way he was choked by his own hair. Iwaizumi hesitated, then walked up to Oikawa. “This boy doesn’t remember anything. He lost his memory from that day.” 

The way Iwaizumi was standing over him, Oikawa felt a bit shielded from all the hostile glares from the fairies. Iwaizumi stood with his feet apart, and shoulders back; his body language soothed Oikawa for now. 

“Poor prisoner child,” Suga repeated again. “Will you come to me?” 

Oikawa glanced at Iwaizumi, who nodded and held out a hand. He helped Oikawa to his feet, and nudged him in the direction of the sick fairy. 

Oikawa didn’t want to let go of Iwaizumi’s arm. He felt alone, isolated and hated by all these fairies who wanted him dead. Iwaizumi was friendly, at least, and a familiar face. He was steady, solid and Oikawa never wanted to let go of his arm. 

“Dumbass, he’s not going to hurt you. Go,” Iwaizumi’s eyes were gentle. 

Oikawa unsteadily made his way to Suga, who put a hand on Oikawa’s arm, and then snatched it away like he’d been burned. 

“Sorcerer magic resides in you,” he whispered. “Tell me, prisoner child, what do you think is going on?” 

“You’re the powerful fairy who came to my tower,” Oikawa started after a pause. “But you got sick from Sorcerer’s magic, and you needed dew from my roses to make the cure, so Iwa-chan tricked me to get it, and Daichi woke you up. And now you’ll kill Sorcerer if you can.” 

The fairies muttered low among themselves. 

“Yeah, of course you’re surprised, you fairies think so lowly of me,” now that Oikawa was free from his bonds, he was less frightened and had more room for furious anger. 

“You only know what Ushijima wants you to know,” Daichi said quietly. He didn’t look like he wanted Oikawa dead right now. In fact, he looked quite sorry for Oikawa. 

“Who’s Ushijima?” Oikawa asked. 

“You see?” one fairy laughed. “You really don’t know anything; you don’t even know the sorcerer’s name.” 

Oikawa stared. “It’s just Sorcerer.” 

“He calls him Sorcerer as a child says Mother,” another fairy said in dull interest. This fairy was tall and blonde, wearing black spectacles on his wiry face. 

“Mother?” repeated Oikawa. 

“Where is his mother?” Iwaizumi asked. “Does he have one? I mean, of course he had one, but did the sorcerer kill his parents, or kidnap Oikawa-“ 

“Kidnap,” scoffed the blond tall fairy, crossing his arms across his chest. “No. It was a bargain. Ushijima played it well. He has learned from his mistakes, and now he gains power year to year, and holds us in his iron fist as his magic grows.” 

“You frighten him,” Suga said, watching Oikawa’s face. “This is too much at once.” 

“What is?” Oikawa’s natural curiosity overpowered the fear. “Why are you calling him Ushijima? What is a mother?” 

“His innocence is evident in every word he speaks,” Suga smiled softly at Oikawa. “Treating him with violence will teach him we are the ones to be feared.” 

“Until this boy is destroyed and Ushijima is forced to flee and start again,” one fairy jeered at Oikawa. “We will not be safe. As for his innocence, it is high time we shatter it. We must destroy him, Suga.” 

Oikawa shrank from the ugliness in the fairy’s look. 

“No,” Suga breathed. “I do not give my consent to kill him. While I live, the child lives.” 

Daichi was looking at Suga with eyes full of an emotion that Oikawa couldn’t name. It was hard and soft all at once. He touched Suga’s cheek, and then the edge of his withered wing. “You live.” 

“I live,” Suga said. “For now.” 

“For now,” Daichi tensed. He pointed at Oikawa. “But the fairies have a point. As long as the boy lives for Ushijima, nothing more can be done to help you. I refuse to trade your life for a life that has brought such suffering upon us.” 

At his words, the hostile fairies raised their voices in passionate agreement. 

“This boy is not to blame for out suffering,” Suga raised a hand for quiet. “Or even mine. My injury was an accident, and he doesn’t even remember my visit. When I touched his arm, I felt so much sorcerer magic that I would guess he has forgotten half the last year of his life.” 

Oikawa jerked. 

“What?! No! You’re lying to me! I remember everything, it’s just one day that I forgot!” Oikawa glared fiercely at the fairies around him. 

“Listen,” Suga said to Oikawa. “Two days ago, I came to the sorcerer’s tower. While a prince called to you, I tried to climb your hair.” 

“Iwa-chan told me about that,” Oikawa said. 

“He doesn’t know all of it. I was smashed into the stones of your balcony as you collected your hair. My wing snapped and died, you see. You didn’t know I was there, and you’re not to blame for it,” Suga said kindly. “When you found me, you were alarmed-and kind.” He raised his voice, so the fairies around him could hear. 

“I hope you are all listening,” Suga’s words carried across the now silent Centercourt. “This child was gentle. He sought my comfort.” 

Suga continued in a quiet voice, as if telling Oikawa a bedtime story. “You took me inside and you were curious to meet another creature. You were anxious to do something and so you fed me some dew from the Sorcerer’s roses-you thought I was thirsty. I was too weak to refuse, and I couldn’t speak-the magic was too strong. You didn’t know it was all poison to me.” 

Oikawa felt sick to his stomach. He couldn’t remember anything Suga was telling him, but he just knew the story was true. He had poisoned a fairy, and broken him. Maybe not on purpose, but still. 

“But now, now you can’t fly!” Oikawa felt horrified. 

“There are more important things than flight,” Suga smiled, clasping Daichi’s hand tightly in his own. “But the sacrifice was not in vain. Iwaizumi brought the prisoner child here, and I have got what I wanted in the first place. A chance to speak with you.” 

“Why?” Oikawa still felt sick. He thought the sickness was spreading through his body to his heart. 

“To tell you things, and see if you can hear them, or if you’re beyond all hope. I have faith that you are young and innocent enough to be salvaged, and my faith has grown since I met you. Although you are selfish and ignorant, your heart is good,” Suga said. 

Oikawa fell silent. He didn’t know what it meant to be salvaged, but it didn’t sound nice. 

“Why do you call me prisoner child?” Oikawa folded his legs into a sitting position in front of Suga. 

“Because you are a prisoner, in a tower.” 

“I’m not though. I love my tower,” Oikawa said. 

“Love is a slippery word. Are you sure you understand it?” 

Oikawa was about to respond-say of course he knew what it meant. But he was shown so much in the last half hour, so much he did not know. So much of what he was sure of was proved to be false. But he still was sure of one thing. 

“Sorcerer took care of me. He wasn’t very affectionate, but that works out fine for the both of us. He takes care of whatever displeases me, feeds me and clothes me. Isn’t that what love is?” 

“Love has many aspects to it, with many different ways to interpret it.” 

“Sorcerer has been good to me my whole life. I don’t want you to get better, because if you did, you’d go back to kill him. I wouldn’t have helped you if I had known,” Oikawa drew in a deep breath. 

Iwaizumi groaned at this, and the fairies all sucked in a sharp breath. 

“Do you see?” A fairy said. “He only wishes you harm.” 

“I see a creature more truthful than most,” Suga waved the fairy aside. “Prisoner child, I know you wish to return to your tower, but I cannot allow it. But you are tired in body and mind, and your wounds need tending to. I wish to give you comfort. Tell me what you need.” 

Oikawa gazed at Suga. He was so tired, and everything hurt, especially his throat. It was no good trying to sort the truth from the lies; he could hardly remember half of what had been said in the first place. What did he want?

“I’m really dirty,” Oikawa said plaintively. “And I’ve felt sick ever since I shrank.” 

“Do you want sympathy?” One fairy snickered. 

“You have been ill for less than an hour. Imagine your pain lasting near a decade. While Ushijima’s magic crushes in around us, not one of us has had a single day of ease,” the tall blonde fairy said, fluttering his wings in distaste. 

“Tsukishima.” Something in Suga’s tone silenced him. “I cannot take our guests to the lake to bathe. I am not well enough. One of you, volunteer.” 

There was a silence. “Uh, I think I remember where the lake was from last time,” Iwaizumi shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another. “I can take Oikawa there.” 

“You might get lost,” Suga said. “Tsukishima, you go with them.” 

“What? Is it because I-“ 

“Yes. Now go.” 

Tsukishima clicked his tongue in disgust, before turning around and drifting away. Iwaizumi gave Oikawa a look of concern before bending down to help Oikawa carry his hair. “We’re gonna follow him?” Oikawa asked. “He doesn’t like me very much.” 

“No one here likes you very much,” Iwaizumi said. “Except Suga.” 

“Oh, Iwaizumi? Thank you for your services,” Suga’s weak voice called. “But stay the day and night with Oikawa. We may require one more favor from you.” 

“Oh, uh, sure,” Iwaizumi seemed a bit uneasy. 

“Until then,” Daichi nodded at them, never letting go of Suga’s limp hand. 

“I hope you will be at home among us,” Suga gave Oikawa one last smile. 

“I won’t,” Oikawa sniffed. “But…” he decided a little politeness was forgivable. “Thank you. For not killing me.” 

Suga’s good wing shimmered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love reading your comments! Please leave any suggestions or comments down below! :)


	6. A Very, Very, Bad Day

Iwaizumi tugged a stumbling Oikawa along. Oikawa kept tripping, and twice he completely dropped all his hair as he ran into blades of grass the size of a tree. 

The fairies tittered as Oikawa struggled to his feet again. Some of them had followed Iwaizumi and Oikawa from the Centercourt, and Tsukishima kept shooting them annoyed glances over his shoulder. Hovering above the tall blades of grass were more coppery cages of lights each no bigger than his fist. 

Once Oikawa made sure they were deep enough in the forest of grass blades and that no fairies were spying on him from above, he reached out to touch one of the lights. It was warm and it seemed to glow brighter when he touched it. He grudgingly admitted it was kind of pretty.

As they traveled through the forest of glass blades, Oikawa saw shining huge glass globes, windowed and lit from the inside, which hung suspended in the air overhead. Some of the globes were made of colored glass, and other of glittering metal. A few dangled so low that their curving underbellies brushed the grass; others sat so high that they reflected in the sky. 

Oikawa blinked at the odd sight. He knew things couldn’t reflect against the sky. Except it wasn’t a real sky, he realized, squinting up at it. Far overhead curved a dome that appeared to be made of small squares of glass. Vines with flowers snaked around the glass dome, filtering the morning light. In a few places, Sorcerer’s roses had even cracked the glass sky. 

In fact, the more Oikawa looked, the more cracks in the glass he found, and the more roses he saw, the more thorns he saw stabbing into the glass dome. If they were Sorcerer’s flowers, then it was Sorcerer who was blocking out the fairies sun. And if Sorcerer’s roses were magical, and his magic made the fairies ill, then Oikawa supposed, with some reluctance, that it made sense for the fairies to be angry. 

Still, Sorcerer wouldn’t have to protect himself if the fairies weren’t trying to kill him in the first place. 

Tired of such thoughts, Oikawa pushed his way out of the grasses and was glad to see a nice, shining, clear blue lake in front of them. Iwaizumi exhaled, dropping Oikawa’s hair next to the edge of the lake. “You can bathe here,” Tsukishima was several paces ahead, a perpetually annoyed look on his face. He pushed his black glasses further up onto his nose.

Iwaizumi stripped off his jacket and his boots. He grabbed the hem of his shirt and tugged it over his head, and then he leapt into the lake with a loud splash. He came for air, a sharp white smile on his face. “Hoo! Feels good. I’ll let you get undressed,” Iwaizumi swam behind a wall of tall green grass. 

Oikawa couldn’t wait to be clean. It was absolutely horrible having dirt all over his skin and mud on his clothes. He tossed his hair into the clear blue lake, took off his windbreaker and shirt, and stripped off his shorts and kicked off his shoes. 

The red clay ground was cool and spongy beneath his bare feet, and he tried to ignore the nearby fairies who were flying around, running errands.

Cold water closed over Oikawa’s feet and he screamed. 

“What’s wrong?” Iwaizumi called from the other side of the tall grass. 

“It’s freezing!” cried Oikawa. The bathtub in his tower always let out warm, relaxing water. Here, the water was sharp, and bit into his skin. He eased his legs into the water, inch by excruciating inch. 

“It’s easier if you jump in all at once,” Iwaizumi’s voice called again. 

Oikawa glared at the grass wall that hid him. “No, it isn’t.” 

“Fine, don’t believe me,” came Iwaizumi’s reply. “Suffer.” 

Oikawa lost his footing in the next step, and he dropped into the water. He jumped up, sputtering, and shrieked when the air lashed at his skin. He dropped down into the water again and shivered, hugging himself. 

“Better, right?” Oikawa could hear Iwaizumi’s smile in his voice. He looked up to see he had already swum out to the middle of the lake. Curious, he took a step towards him. He floated in his bathtub all the time, and he had read about swimming. It couldn’t be too hard. He took another step, but when he put his foot down again, he found nothing. The lake floor sloped steeply into deeper water. 

Quickly, he tried to take a step back, but lost his balance. Water covered his mouth. He threw his arms out and tried to paddle furiously back towards the shallow area. It didn’t really work; all it did was shift icy cold water around in big splashes. 

His lungs burned, his nose stung and he coughed until his already sore throat was raw. Shaken and hacking, he inched up the muddy incline until he stood in the shallows. 

Tsukishima hovered above him, just out of reach, laughing so hard he had doubled over. 

Oikawa’s mouth curled up in embarrassed anger. He hit the water as hard as he could with his palm, spraying the tall fairy with a shower of water. 

A bright laugh replaced Tsukishima’s. A small, orange-haired fairy was giggling and pointing at Tsukishima. 

“Shut up, Hinata,” Tsukishima wiped his glasses on his orange sash and shot a scathing look at Oikawa.   
Oikawa reeled his floating hair towards him and began unbraiding it. He found rocks, twigs and clumps of dirt in his hair, disgusting him. He dunked each strand in the water, brushing out all the filth. 

“Wow! You have a lot of hair! Why do you need all of it?” 

Oikawa looked up to see the orange haired fairy-Hinata-had floated closer to Oikawa, curiously looking at his hair. 

Oikawa stiffened. This fairy didn’t seem threatening, but he after he had been gagged, towed through mud, and dragged around like a rag doll, he was rather cautious of fairies. 

“It’s to keep him warm, dumbass,” another fairy was perched on a wilting blade of grass near the banks of the lake. He was tall, black haired and had serious blue eyes. 

Oikawa blinked at the newcomer. “No it isn’t. My hair is long because I like it long.” 

The newcomer shifted his weight. “Oh. Well, I just thought you would be cold since your skin’s the color of snow.” 

Hinata flitted around the new fairy. “Haha! Kageyama thinks he knows everything.” 

“You’re rather ugly, aren’t you?” Kageyama ignored Hinata and was looking at Oikawa. 

“Ugly? You can’t be speaking to me,” Oikawa immediately felt defensive. Who was this fairy? Did he know who he was talking to? Oikawa was beautiful, like how the sky was blue. It wasn’t bragging; it was just a fact. 

“Your skin is all white, and you have no wings, is what he means,” Hinata hovered near Oikawa. “He doesn’t actually mean you’re ugly. Kageyama just doesn’t know how to talk to other people.” 

“Is that so?” Oikawa threw a contemptuous look at Kageyama. “Well tell him that I think he’s ugly. His skin’s not even that much different from mine. And he’s got such a serious expression on-like, who died?” 

“Kageyama’s not ugly,” Hinata said. “I think he looks fine. Plus his wings are really big.” 

Oikawa did notice how big Kageyama’s wings were. They were sleek and the color of ink, but Hinata’s wings were roughly the same size. Oikawa found himself more enchanted by Hinata’s wings-they were multi-colored, yellow dappling in silver. 

“Well, Oikawa’s not ugly either,” Iwaizumi’s voice came from Oikawa’s right. He had swam up to the shallow bank, and was getting out. “He’s what humans would consider a ‘pretty boy’.” 

“I am pretty,” Oikawa said, nonplussed. All his books said so. 

“Yeah, whatever Shittykawa. Let’s go.”

“Why do you keep calling me things that make no sense?” Oikawa asked as he tugged back on his clothes. They were uncomfortable against his damp skin, but there was nothing he could do about it. 

Iwaizumi’s shirt was untucked and his belt was slung over his arm. His normally black spikey hair was plastered to his head. He reached in the lake and began to pull out Oikawa’s hair, and stuffed it in a leather knapsack.

“Where’d you get that?” Oikawa pointed at the brown colored knapsack. 

“Hinata gave it to me for your hair. He said it looked better when it wasn’t covered in dirt so I need to put it in this bag or something. Works for me; it means I don’t have to lug around your stupid hair.” 

In the end, Iwaizumi still was stuck carrying Oikawa’s hair. Oikawa had complained the bag dripped all over his windbreaker and was twice as heavy, so Iwaizumi shouldered the bag with a roll of his eyes. Tsukishima, still glaring at Oikawa, led them to a stone globe. He dipped his hands in his bag slung over his hip, and swiped his index finger down. The stone globe lowered itself down onto the red clay ground, and Tsukishima dropped his hand, looking a little drained. Oikawa noted this change with pleasure. 

Iwaizumi climbed into the globe and Oikawa followed. “Wow,” Iwaizumi said, looking around. “This is cool.” 

It was really cozy, with two comfy looking beds and a table with cushions next to it. The same hovering balls of coppery light hung in mid-air, casting a warm glow across the room. It was smaller than his tower, way smaller, but Oikawa didn’t care. He was exhausted. 

Tsukishima left without parting any words, and Oikawa immediately collapsed on one of the beds. It was a bit stiff, nothing like his soft feathery bed in his tower. He burrowed under the wool quilt and was about to doze off-

“Owoodoin’?” Iwaizumi had plopped down on the other bed and continued to shove the food the fairies left for them in his mouth. 

Oikawa scowled at him. 

Iwaizumi swallowed. “How are you doing?” he repeated. “You all right?” 

“No thanks to you,” Oikawa said bitterly. “You brought me here.” 

Iwaizumi wiped his mouth. “I had to. But I swear I had no idea they’d be so rough on you. Aren’t you gonna eat anything?” 

Oikawa gave Iwaizumi one of his famous contemptuous looks before scooting to the edge of his bed to look at the fairy food on the table. His stomach did feel like a squeezed out tube of toothpaste, so he picked up a spoonful of what looked like mealy mush. Tentatively, he sniffed it. 

It smelled strange, not bad, and Oikawa was too hungry to be suspicious of it for long. He dug into it, shoving as much into his mouth as he could fit. 

In hindsight, this was probably a bad idea. He had never consumed this type of food before, so his stomach was definitely not going to be used to it. It tasted rich and oily, which nauseated him, but he was famished. 

Sure enough, moments after the last spoonful disappeared in his mouth, his stomach lurched and he dropped to his knees between the two beds. His mouth opened, his whole body heaved, and the food he had eaten came back up, splattering on the floor at Iwaizumi’s feet, flooding across his boots. He cried out and jumped up. 

“You can’t eat fairy stuff,” he said. “Great.”

Oikawa remained on the floor, limp, unable to answer. This whole day had been horrid. Absolutely horrid. He had never lost a meal before, and his already raw throat screamed in protest, his nose ran, and his eyes were streaming with tears for the thousandth time that day. 

“Don’t cry,” Iwaizumi sounded gruff. “You’re sick, that’s all.” 

Oikawa sat up weakly, and tried really hard not to cry. He was tricked from his tower, had his beloved hair cut off, battered around and been demanded to be killed on the spot, almost drowned, and now his stomach was burning again. 

He didn’t succeed at trying not to cry. 

Iwaizumi awkwardly lifted a sobbing Oikawa from the floor and set him on the bed. “No, don’t cry. No, no, no, here you wipe your face and I’ll clean the mess up, okay?” 

Oikawa nodded, sniffing, and crawled back into his bed. He heard Iwaizumi shifting around and the door of the globe opening and closing. He had drifted into a doze by the time Iwaizumi shook him awake. 

“Hey, you need to bandage your hands. They look like hell, and they’re going to get infected.” 

Oikawa blearily looked down at his hands. Large strips of skin had been torn off from where he had slid down the rope, and little speckles of dirt still remained at the edges of the wounds. 

“They’re…they’re all ugly,” Oikawa managed to say in a whimper. 

“Yeah, but the skin will grow back so it’ll go back to normal. But if it gets infected, it’s gonna hurt like hell, so here, let me-“ Iwaizumi took his hands and dabbed some white foamy thing from a tube onto the wounds and wiped them with a clean piece of cloth. 

It stung like fury, but once Iwaizumi wrapped thick, sturdy, white bandages over the wounds it stopped the pain a little. 

“My throat hurts a lot,” Oikawa said. 

“Yeah, the imprints from where they choked you with your hair is still there,” Iwaizumi sounded angry. “Jeez, shit, you’re like a little kid. I don’t know why they would-,” he let out a sigh, running his rough hands through his own spikey hair. 

“I’m not a little kid,” Oikawa immediately said. 

“Yeah, whatever. I think I have one bead left for soup…,” Iwaizumi rummaged through his bag, and took out a silver bead, the same bead from where he had produced a rope on Oikawa’s tower so long ago. 

He cracked it on the curving stone wall, and the bead folded up into a bowl of something that smelled wonderful. Without waiting, Oikawa leaned forward, tipped the bowl to his mouth and began to drink the soup. 

It tasted wonderful. It was hot, brothy, and tasted of tomatoes and had little pieces of chicken in it. Oikawa finished it in less than a couple minutes, and he sat back, feeling a lot better. His throat felt soothed, and his stomach was filled. 

He giggled at Iwaizumi’s scowl. “You have frown lines.” 

“I do not. Go to sleep, Shittykawa, you’ve had a hell of a day.” 

“What’s Shittykawa?”

“You. You’re Shittykawa. You’re also Asskawa, Trashkawa…I’m trying to think of more. Stupidkawa? Idiotkawa? Doesn’t have the same ring to it, you know,” Iwaizumi had settled into his own bed. 

“None of that makes any sense.” 

“It’s your nickname.” 

“Yours is Iwa-chan.”

“Can you please not call me that?” 

“Iwa-chan.”

“…Goodnight asshole.”

“Goodnight Iwa-chan!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave your suggestions, comments, questions! They make my day when I read them! :) I think I'll update every week...school's pretty hard bahaha.


	7. Into the Journey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> iM SO SORRY THIS IS SO LATE WHAT AM I EVEN DOING IDEK 
> 
> *drops crappy chapter*  
> *runs*

Oikawa slept for a very long time. He woke disturbed and disoriented and all his muscles were stiff. He suddenly sat up and pressed his back against the wall, nervous that Daichi or Tsukishima might have crept in while he slept but there were no fairies in sight. There was only Iwaizumi, snoring in the other bed. 

And his clothes were clean. Oikawa gazed down at his shirt in surprise. His windbreaker was clean too, and had been folded and hung over the end of the bed. Oikawa wondered how the fairies had managed it and why they had done something nice to him. Maybe they cleaned his braid too. He turned to the spot where Iwaizumi had last put down the knapsack with wet hair-and he froze.

It was gone. He whipped around, frantically looking for the knapsack. His hair could not be gone. It could not. 

“Iwa-chan!” he shouted. 

Iwaizumi made an unintelligible noise but otherwise remained motionless. Oikawa jumped up and stubbed his toes on something cold and hard. He let out a high pitched yelp and Iwaizumi opened one bleary eye to stare at him. 

“My hair!” screamed Oikawa. “It’s gone, it’s gone, the fairies took it!”

Iwaizumi rubbed his eyes. “Good,” he said, and slumped into his pillows again. 

Oikawa grabbed his arm and shook him as hard as he could. “Good?” he shrieked. “Good?!” 

“I’M SLEEPING,” Iwaizumi bellowed. He flung his pillow at him, missed, and flopped back into bed with a groan. 

Oikawa was about to launch into a full blown panic fit when he realized the thing he stubbed his toes on was…unusual. It was a circular contraption somewhat smaller than his window wheel at home. It was made of shining silver, with two thick straps on its back. Coiled around its circumference was what appeared to be his severed braid. 

“My hair,” cried Oikawa in relief. He dropped to his knees and buried his face in the coiled braid. 

“Insane,” Iwaizumi muttered. “You got tied up and dragged around by it, and you still aren’t sick of it?” 

“I want to see all of it!” 

No sooner had Oikawa said this than the fairies’ wheel whirred and the end of his braid shot off the spool, straight into his hands. Oikawa tugged it slightly to unwind it further, and once he was satisfied that it was all there, he breathed a sigh of relief. It was also clean now. 

“Wind back up, please,” he gave the wheel a grateful pat. The wheel spun again, and in seconds, the entire thing was wound again. 

Iwaizumi gave Oikawa a look. “How did you know it would do that?”

“Sorcerer makes things like this for me,” he said. “It’s not that different. I wonder then why the magics don’t mix.” Oikawa picked up the wheel and happily noted how much lighter it was than he had expected. The hair itself was still heavy but the silver wheel added no weight at all. 

“Well, now that you’re up, we should go see Suga. He sent for you last night, told me to bring you when you wake up,” Iwaizumi heaved himself out of bed, his broad back ripple with muscles. 

Oikawa wrinkled his nose at him. He was so heavy set…it was kind of weird. Oikawa was tall and had a rather lean build, so Iwaizumi’s frame confused him some times. How does someone walk around with such thick arms? Sorcerer was kind of built like Iwaizumi in a way, but Sorcerer was magic. Iwaizumi was just…well, normal. 

Iwaizumi noticed Oikawa’s scrutinizing gaze. Scowling, he snatched up a pillow and chucked it at him. Oikawa ducked, squawking in protest. “What was that for?” 

“Stop making a weird face at me. Let’s go see Suga. He’s gonna make us big again.” 

Oikawa’s heart leapt. Maybe he’d get to go home! He slung the wheel onto his back, slipping his arms through the leather straps. Iwaizumi led the way out of the globe and back into the green world outside. 

Fewer roses pushed through the dome today, and Oikawa spotted some wilted, dying. “I don’t get it,” he said to Iwaizumi. “Why did you need dew from my roses when you have thousands here?” 

“They’re not the same,” Iwaizumi bent over to pluck something out of the dirt. It was leafy and dark and he held it carefully by one large petal. It was a rose, but needle sharp thorns crusted the stem, and the oversized petals looked rough and leathery. 

“Ever seen a rose like that?” 

“No,” Oikawa pushed Iwaizumi’s hand holding the rose away. “I thought they were Sorcerer’s, but they’re far too ugly.” 

“They are.” 

Oikawa looked down in disbelief. It that horrid thing was Sorcerer’s rose, then it was sick. Could that mean Sorcerer was also ill? Worry knotted Oikawa’s stomach into a ball as he continued to follow Iwaizumi through the glades. 

Once they got to Centercourt, Oikawa stiffened at the sight of Suga. He was curled up in his bed-chair thing, and he was slack and sweating, looking sicker than he had yesterday. Daichi stood beside him, watching on with worried eyes. 

“Good morning,” Suga’s voice was weak. “How do you find your hair, prisoner child?” 

“I did find it, thank you,” Oikawa uneasily looked at Daichi. He didn’t forget the threats this fairy had issued. 

“He means how do you like it, you dumbass,” Iwaizumi nudged Oikawa with his shoulder. 

“Oh. I like it a lot. It’s a lot lighter than I expected,” Oikawa swallowed. 

“We would’ve made your braid lighter, but Ushijima’s magic prevented it. If you wish to keep your hair, you’ll have to carry it. But the wheel should help as you journey.” 

“I don’t want to journey,” Oikawa was surprised. “I just want to go home.” 

“You must journey. Suga is sparing your life by giving you a chance to learn. He thinks you can save yourself from Ushijima. Several others think it’s easier to just kill you, but-“ at this Daichi glanced at Suga with a gaze loaded with emotions Oikawa had no power to name. “-but while Suga lives, we follow his orders. I will go prepare the exit.” 

Daichi tenderly planted a small kiss on Suga’s head and flew off. 

“Why does he kiss you so much? And why does he keep looking at you like that?” Oikawa curiously asked. 

Suga managed a smile, and beside him Iwaizumi snorted. “They’re in love, stupid.” 

Oikawa blinked at Iwaizumi. “Love?”

“Iwaizumi will inform you later. For now, listen. You will journey to the center of Japan. Iwaizumi here will guide you, and Daichi will follow, hidden, to make sure you follow the plan. If you do, he will not harm you. If not…”

Oikawa didn’t like all these hidden threats. They slid under his skin and melted like slime down his spine. “I won’t obey you if you hurt Sorcerer.”

“Ushijima is alive and well. You have my word.” 

“You have to let me send a message to him! I have to let him know I’m okay. I don’t want him to think I’m dead,” Oikawa said, imagining how a little worry had caused Sorcerer’s hair to turn white. 

“He knows you are well, prisoner child.”

“Hang on,” Iwaizumi broke in here. “I know I said I would help, but isn’t this a little…much? I already…um,” he trailed off, looking tense. 

“I know your predicament, Iwaizumi,” Suga said softly. “But I need your help. The fairies will be vulnerable to attack from Ushijima and other sorcerers outside of our hidden home. I cannot ask one of them to accompany him, and Daichi is already putting himself in great danger.” 

Iwaizumi said nothing, his jaw clenched. 

“You will travel to First Wood, where the Woodmother dwells. It will take you a couple of weeks to reach her, I assume.” 

“Weeks?” repeated Oikawa in dismay. “Where is First Wood?” 

“It cannot be fixed on a map, but I have sent a message to her already. Most who seek Woodmother never find her, but I believe she will sense you once you reach her realm…I think she will find you worthy.” 

“Worthy of what?” 

Suga’s eyes shone. “You deserve to know who you are. You deserve to understand who Ushijima is. And most of all, you need to decide for yourself what life you want to live. I cannot simply tell you myself, you will never hear me. Ushijima has made sure of that. You must experience. You must be shown, and learn. Otherwise, you must die.” 

Suga spoke the last word with such sadness Oikawa grew cold. He knew the fairy meant what he said. 

“You must to learn. Look around as you travel, and be willing to hear. Because our entire species is at stake, and when we are threatened, so is the entire ecosystem of Japan,” Suga continued. “Iwaizumi. The prisoner child will have many questions-always tell him the truth. Do this and stay with him, and I will ask nothing further form you. I will give you the help you seek before your time runs out.” 

Iwaizumi was slightly pale, but he nodded. 

“Then make your way,” Suga touched his fingertips to Oikawa’s forehead in a salute. Then he slumped back, and two fairies hurried to tend to him. They looked at Oikawa with disgust and turned their backs on him with decided emphasis to take care of Suga. 

Oikawa and Iwaizumi walked out of Centercourt and into the tunnel where they first came from. At the end of the tunnel, Daichi waited, his eyes glowing dimly. 

“Suga wishes to present this gift to you-it may come in handy.” In his hand he rolled a pebble-size ball of black clay, which he lifted to his mouth and breathed out. His black wings flared out and began to pulse with a glowing light as he blew air into the clay. It expanded with his breath, becoming a translucent globe, and his wings pulsed brighter and brighter until he finally pulled away, gasping for air. 

“A lifebreath,” Daichi rasped. He passed it Oikawa, who took it with caution. It weighed almost nothing and it felt so delicate that it would dissolve in his hands. 

“It will restore any injured mortal. Just break it near the victim’s mouth. Don’t think I could give you another one-we make very few in our lifetimes and this is my last.” 

“Thank you,” said Iwaizumi, sounding awed. 

“You are welcome,” Daichi escorted them out of Karasuno and into the fairylight once more. Iwaizumi and Oikawa stepped out of the fairylight and onto the dirt earth and the giant leaves. Daichi remained in the shadows of the fairylight. 

With a swipe of Daichi’s hand, a tingling sensation began in Oikawa’s feet. It suddenly rushed up his legs and exploded in his body, and he felt like the world streaked around him like a tunnel of falling stars. His vision suddenly slowed, and he blinked. 

“I’m big!” he cried when he realized what happened. “I’m myself again!” 

An instant later, Iwaizumi stood beside Oikawa at his regular size and height. Below them in the fairylight, Daichi fell forward to his knees. He raised a shaky hand to his forehead. 

“Go north,” he gasped with effort, “and do not turn back. I will be watching over you every step, but I cannot help you. Outside the fairylight and Karasuno, even a little bit of magic will alert the sorcerer of our whereabouts.” 

Oikawa took a step back and Daichi raised his head. “One movement towards that tower, or one breath to call Ushijima, I will do what I have to do in order to save our species. Do not fail us, prisoner child.” 

Iwaizumi touched Oikawa’s shoulder, indicating him to follow. He took out a silver of circle and the arrow in it swung in a circle until it stopped on the letter N. 

“North,” Iwaizumi pointed along a path that disappeared among the trees, and Oikawa sighed. He had no choice but to go; he had to find this Woodmother, otherwise he will die. 

“It’s only for a few weeks,” Oikawa huffed determinedly. “Then I’ll be back, and Sorcerer will be safe. We’ll live happily ever after, like in all my books.” He stalked off towards the path, matching Iwaizumi’s strides. 

“Now. Where are we going?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember to leave comments! Sorry this was a slow chapter, the next one will be v interesting, you'll see ;)


	8. Too Close to Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To make up for the absence of updates, I wrote a long ass chapter, so get comfy loll

They were headed north towards a places called Aoba Johsai, or nicknamed Seijoh. It took Oikawa awhile to realize that they’re the same place because Iwaizumi switched between the names frequently. It was a place famous for its huge, sweeping markets, and its capital, also called Seijoh, was a big, merry marketplace where farmers and merchants from all over Japan came to sell their goods.

There were chunks of honeycomb, lemon custards, and chocolate dipped strawberries. Farmers apparently sold everything from apples and oranges to tomatoes and pumpkins, and everything there was cooked with the freshest spices and herbs.

Iwaizumi had to stop several times in his description of Seijoh to define his words. Oikawa had never heard of Seijoh, or a marketplace, or pig-roasting pits. Iwaizumi was patient with Oikawa, and sometimes even launched into a long, unprompted explanation without Oikawa even asking. He described food in such details that Oikawa’s appetite reared up.

“I’m starving,” Oikawa whined.

“No you’re not,” Iwaizumi shook his head. “You’ve never starved ten seconds in your life, I bet. Or did that sorcerer forget to leave food in your tower?”

“Of course he didn’t,” Oikawa scoffed. “Sorcerer brings me whatever I want. I just have to ring my bell.”

“Must be nice,” Iwaizumi said snarkily.

Oikawa chose to ignore his tone, and thought of all the wonderful food Sorcerer would bring him. “Well I’m hungry,” he said. “I haven’t eaten in forever, and I vomited everything up.”

Iwaizumi had taught him that word with delight. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver ball, and Oikawa looked on in interest. “Are we gonna have that soup again?”

“You don’t know what this is?” Iwaizumi demanded, shaking the bead in Oikawa’s face.

Oikawa leaned back to avoid being smacked on the nose with it. “It’s one of those things where you turned it into a rope. Or a bowl of really good soup. I’d like the soup option please.”

“It’s Instant Beads. How do you not know what these are? Your sorcerer never mentioned these to you? They’re a godsend. Everyone uses them.”

Oikawa took it and rolled it around in his hands. “So, do I crack it?”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

Oikawa crouched beside a large stone and tapped the bead against it.

“No. Like crack it,” Iwaizumi mimicked a slamming motion. Oikawa tapped it harder, but nothing happened.

“Just give it here,” Iwaizumi sighed. “I’ll-“

Oikawa slammed the bead down against the stone, and it gave a loud, mighty crack. He squealed in delight as the bead exploded into a heavy, round crusty loaf of warm and fragrant bread.

“Amazing!” Oikawa was already shoveling the bread into his mouth.

“Instant,” Iwaizumi corrected. “Shittykawa, you asscrack, save some for me-“

Oikawa followed Iwaizumi deeper in the woods, munching on his half. Iwaizumi had given Oikawa the bigger half of the bread, which was nice, so Oikawa didn’t complain.

As they walked, Oikawa’s mind wandered back to Suga. Was he still alive? From the way he was deteriorating, Oikawa wondered how much time he had left.

“What’d the feeling I get when I see Suga’s wing?” Oikawa suddenly asked, troubled by the memory of the dull gray thing hanging limp and broken from Suga’s body.

“What feeling?” Iwaizumi glanced at Oikawa.

“Like it’s my fault,” Oikawa said, thinking of Sorcerer’s wrinkles and white hair. Those had been his fault too and they’ve probably only gotten worse.

“Bad feeling?” Iwaizumi asked, his eyes set on the path ahead, not looking at Iwaizumi. “Heavy? Kinda sits right here?” He rested one of his fists under his ribcage.

“That’s it!” Oikawa said. He touched his stomach in echo. “It hurts here too.” He set his hand on his throat. “It hurts.”

“That’s guilt. You’ve never felt that before?” He laughed, but it was short. “That’s some tower.”

“It’s an awful feeling. I hope there’s not a worse one.”

“There’s grief.”

“Grief?”

“It’s mostly how you feel if someone you love dies. Or leaves,” Iwaizumi’s mouth had hardened.

“What does it feel like?” Oikawa hopped over a fallen tree.

“I can’t tell you that.”

“You have to,” Oikawa demanded. “Suga said you have to tell me the truth, no matter what I ask.”

“And the truth is, I can’t tell you,” said Iwaizumi. He shrugged. “You either know how it feels or you don’t.”

Soon they exited the dense forest into where the trees weren’t as thick and sunlight was able to fall on the floor, dappling Oikawa’s skin in warmth. Iwaizumi brightened with every step northward, as though walking in the woods were the sort of thing that suited him exactly.

Oikawa wished he felt the same. The wheel that held his braid was beginning to press down on his shoulders and his feet felt tired.

“Cheer up,” Iwaizumi nudged Oikawa’s shoulder with his own when he caught him wincing. It startled Oikawa-all this casual touching-but he didn’t object; it felt kind of nice. Maybe he should start doing it more. “It’s not so bad. Everything’s got to be interesting to you-you’ve spent your whole life in one room.”

“I have a room and a balcony.”

“Guess you’ve seen it all then,” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “Come on, ask some more questions. Anything you want. There’s plenty I can tell you.”

Oikawa considered. He did have questions.

“What’s a mother?”

“Christ,” Iwaizumi shook his head. “What a question. You really don’t know?”

“I wouldn’t ask if I knew!”

“Okay, okay, it’s just…” Iwaizumi shrugged. “A mother is…a woman. And a father is a man. They’re parents. They have children. You’re supposed to be raised by your parents unless they die or something happens.”

“So…Sorcerer is my father?”

Iwaizumi looked deeply offended. “No!”

“Why not? I grew up with him.”

“But he’s not your real father.”

It was Oikawa’s turn to take offense. “Don’t be stupid,” he said. “Of course he’s real.”

“No he’s,” Iwaizumi seemed at a loss for words. “He isn’t the one who had you.”

“Had me?”

“Yeah, like, parents…” the lump in Iwaizumi’s throat bobbed. He had told Oikawa it was called an Adams apple, which is weird because it doesn’t even look like an apple. “They make children together.”

“Make them? Like with magic?” Oikawa asked in interest.

“Uh, sure. I’m not the right person to ask.”

“But you know all about it, don’t you?”

For some reason that Oikawa couldn’t understand, Iwaizumi flushed a shade of pink. “Not all about it.”

“Well, then tell me what you know, then.”

Iwaizumi said nothing.

“You have to,” Oikawa prodded Iwaizumi’s firm arm. “Suga said.”

Iwaizumi made a grumbling noise. “You see, parents, well, when they’re in love and want to start a family, they decide to have children. And then they go about…making the children…and boom, they have children.”

“Just boom?”

“Just boom,” Iwaizumi nodded.

“You can decide how many children you want?”

“Usually it’s one child at a time. It takes nine months for the child to form in the mother’s stomach-“

“In the stomach?!” Oikawa yelped. “Eugh!”

“Yes. It’s where the baby grows.”

“Baby?”

“Oh for crying out loud-“

In the end though, Oikawa managed to poke most details out of Iwaizumi. “So some other father and mother made me,” he ignored Iwaizumi’s wince. “And then Sorcerer found me in the slums alone, because some other father left me lying around, but Sorcerer took care of me. Doesn’t that make him my real father, and the other one a fake father?”

“He still didn’t conceive you though,” Iwaizumi said.

“Do all parents make their own children? What if something goes wrong and you can’t?” Oikawa pressed.

“Some kids get adopted,” Iwaizumi admitted. “Their parents can’t take care of them, so other people do it instead.”

“Are the people who adopt them still real parents?”

“I guess, if they take good care of them and love them and stuff.”

“Then Sorcerer adopted me, and he’s my real father! He took care of me and stuff. Nobody else did.”

Iwaizumi was quiet, frowning.

“What about the fairies?” Oikawa demanded after a moment. “Do Suga and Daichi-“

“Oh, don’t,” Iwaizumi smacked Oikawa on the back of his head. “Just don’t.”

“I was just gonna ask if they can have children! Since they’re both males,” Oikawa squeaked in protest, rubbing his head.

“No, only women can carry babies. But they can adopt.”

“Do you get to choose who you make children with?” Oikawa asked.

“Of course you do. What else?” Iwaizumi twisted his mouth as if there was more to his answer, but Oikawa didn’t press him.

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t pick Daichi. Suga was the nicest of all those fairies and Daichi threatened to kill me. What would he want him for?”

Iwaizumi shrugged. “It’s not like Daichi threatened to kill Suga. They care about each other.”

“Care about him? Daichi didn’t ever agree with him once!”

“You don’t always agree with the people you care about,” Iwaizumi said.

“Sorcerer always agrees with me. And Daichi was kind of nasty to me.”

“He’s scared,” said Iwaizumi. “People can do nasty things when they’re scared.”

“I wouldn’t,” Oikawa huffed.

“Oh really?” Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. He raised his voice and shrieked, “LIAR! BRUTE! THEIVING PEASANT!”

Oikawa bit his lip.

“TROLL!” He went on, seeming to enjoy himself. His voice was also several octaves higher than usual. “IMP! UGLY LITTLE DEFORMED GNOME!”

“I shouldn’t have called you ugly,” said Oikawa. “Or an imp. Or a gnome. They’re terrible looking creatures, even more so than you-“

“Stuff it, Asskawa,” Iwaizumi shoved him. “Anyways, my mother always says I am the best looking boy to ever walk Japan, so I don’t need liars like you clouding up my brain.” He flips imaginary hair over his shoulder, puffs up his chest and prances off.

“But _I’m_ the best looking boy to walk Japan!” Oikawa indignantly said, his eyes wide and genuine, setting off another round of hooting laughter from Iwaizumi.

“You sound like you actually mean that, you narcissistic asshole,” Iwaizumi ruffled Oikawa’s shorn hair.

“Even though you cut off my hair,” Oikawa puts his hands to his hair and flattened it back. “But I think I look really pretty without my hair too. I have really nice cheekbones now!” Beaming, Oikawa points to his cheek.

Iwaizumi snorts. “I can’t tell which part of that makes me want to punch you more.”

They walked for another two hours, and as the sun began to set, they came to a roaring chasm. The rocks dropped off into nothing. Oikawa was frightened by the loud sound of the water rushing past the rocks. He took a peek over the chasm and saw muddy, yellow water that violently surged downriver.

Iwaizumi, however, looked delighted by this chasm of death. “We’re already at the Golden River! That fairy light saved us almost two days of walking. Good thing-now we’ll have enough food to last till Seijoh.”

Oikawa didn’t respond. His eyes were fixed on the churning water. “That’s a lot of water. And it’s moving really fast.”

“Seijoh is right across this river. Let’s cross. I have an Instant for a bridge.” Iwaizumi pulled out another silver bead.

“I’ve read about bridges. Sometimes they can fall. What if it disappears like your rope did? Won’t we fall and die?” Oikawa looked at the little bead in Iwaizumi’s hands. “That’s gonna be a whole bridge?”

“Nah, the fall isn’t that bad. It can’t be more than fifteen feet. Twenty, tops.”

“But if I fall, I’ll go underwater with no breath.”

“Drown, you mean,” Iwaizumi flipped the bead upwards and caught it again. “Don’t worry. Some people say that Instant beads always crash, but I say they’re cracking them wrong. Instant always lasts for me.”

“What do you mean, crash?”

“Like when they stop working all of a sudden and they disappear,” Iwaizumi explains. “With some products it’s hilarious-like the ball gowns and stuff.”

Oikawa stared at the furious water. “I’m not walking on a bridge that might disappear at any moment.”

“There’s another way, but it’s another two days walking to the nearest crossing point. This river runs across the whole southern border of Seijoh.”

Oikawa sagged at the idea of carrying his heavy braid for another two days. “Fine. We’ll cross. Please don’t let me drown.”

“Then get ready to run, alright?”

Oikawa took a breath and fixed his eyes on the other side of the chasm and thought about nothing except getting across it.

“Okay. Crack it.”

But there was no cracking sound.

“Go on. I’m ready,” Oikawa said. When there was no response, Oikawa turned to look at Iwaizumi. He was standing still as a stone, staring over Oikawa’s shoulder. His eyes were frozen wide with what Oikawa recognized as fear.

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s…a…um, mountain lion,” Iwaizumi strangled out.

Oikawa whirled around to see what he meant. A hundred paces away, at the edge of the woods, stood a lean, agile, snarling beast. It had golden fur and its fanged mouth was dripped with saliva. It pinned bloodshot eyes on Oikawa and shut its jaws with a sickening snap.

The mountain lion suddenly crouched, snarled, and leapt thirty paces towards them with frightening ease. Oikawa took a step back and his hand found Iwaizumi’s arm. He was shaking so hard he could barely grab Iwaizumi’s forearm. “Do something,” he said hoarsely.

Iwaizumi’s dagger glinted in the setting sun, but it looked small and useless against the beast’s teeth. Oikawa saw the desperate gleam in the lion’s eyes. It was starving.

“I can call for-“ Oikawa almost said Sorcerer. But then a faint black and orange shimmering in the woods behind the mountain lion stopped him. Daichi.

“Daichi can’t help us,” Iwaizumi’s voice was strained. He can’t alert the Sorcerer of our position.”

“But we’re going to be eaten by the mountain lion.”

“No, we’re not,” Iwaizumi didn’t seem like he believed himself.

The mountain lion stalked forward and pounced forward. Iwaizumi pulled Oikawa back. The beast was close to them; one more jump and they would be dead. Oikawa couldn’t run back anymore. There was no more land behind his feet, only the raging river.

A sudden, wild idea shot through his head.

“Iwaizumi! Take my braid!” he hissed, angling his back towards Iwaizumi. The wheel turned and the end of his braid shot into Iwaizumi’s hands. “Hold on to it. When the mountain lion jumps, run in the other direction-“

“And trip it,” Iwaizumi realized. He barely said the last word when the mountain lion let out a high, terrible screech and sprang towards them.

“Go!” Iwaizumi roared, and they shot apart. Oikawa gasped as the lion slammed into his hair and jerked him back. The lion’s hind legs were caught on the braid; it stumbled, snarling-and then it lost its balance.

So did Oikawa. The weight of the lion had knocked him off one foot; he flailed his arms, trying to regain footing when the lion fell into the chasm, spitting and roaring.

The wheel on his back wretched and Oikawa screamed as he too fell from the cliff and dropped like a stone towards the raging water.

He hit the water with a smack that knocked all the breath out of him. Its roar filled his ears as the river pulled him under and carried him away. Oikawa opened his eyes and saw dark and muddled water, and he scrambled upwards. He kicked and lurched, beating his way towards the light, but the river slammed into his body and forced him back under.

His lungs tightened and his chest pounded. His mind went red as his oxygen began to run out; he was going to die. He was going to call Sorcerer-he was going to die anyways so Daichi’s threats faded back. He opened his mouth and water flooded into his lungs, and it was like fire again, fire fire fire licking his insides and his insides were on fire he was going to die to die to die-

The sensations of the straps of the wheel digging into his chest yanking him painfully upwards brought him to his senses again and everything was splitting agony. There was another wrenching yank, and Oikawa’s head cleared the surface of the water.

Water poured out of Oikawa’s mouth and he sucked in the most fantastic breath he had ever breathed.

“Oikawa!” shouted Iwaizumi from high above as he pulled him by his braid through the rushing water. “Get your braid! Climb it! I tied the end to a tree, come on, I’ve got you!”

When Oikawa was close enough to the wall for the chasm, he took his braid in shaking hands and leaned his forehead against it. Iwaizumi had said the chasm was fifteen or twenty feet deep-he could never climb so high. He lolled against the stone valley wall, the water pulling at him as it rushed past.

He was weak with pain and fear, and he had almost died. His hands were shaking so bad they could barely hold onto the braid.

“Try!” Iwaizumi shouted again. “Come on, Oikawa! Brace your feet against the wall!”

“I can’t,” Oikawa whispered to his wet braid. He gave a tiny sob of despair. “I can’t.”

Iwaizumi hung almost halfway over the cliff, the braid clasped in his hands. His face was white against the black of his hair. “ _OIKAWA_!” he screamed. “ _CLIMB_!”

Startled into action, Oikawa reached up, gripped his braid and hauled himself a foot out of the water.

A furious screech erupted behind him. He looked back over his shoulder.

The mountain lion was there, clutching an outcropping of rock. Its head disappeared beneath the surface, then it came back up, its eyes wide with rage, its dripping jaws no more than a few feet from Oikawa’s waist. It struggled towards him along the rock.

Energy unlike any Oikawa had ever felt before surged through his limbs. Finding his strength had tripled by raging, desperate energy, he pulled and pulled, putting hand over hand until all six feet of his body cleared the water.

“USE YOUR LEGS!” Iwaizumi tried to pull the braid up, but he only hefted Oikawa up a few more inches. “HURRY! IT’S BEHIND YOU!”

Oikawa felt hot breath on his ankles, the snap of teeth closing just at his heel. He screamed, shoving his right foot into a crevice in the stones and pushed upwards with his legs. Iwaizumi was right. It was faster. He shoved his left foot into a pocket between two jutting rocks and pushed up again. His limbs trembled with miraculous strength.

He looked down, and the lion was a few feet below him now. It scrabbled at the valley wall, failing to reach him with its claws and teeth. Terrified, Oikawa climbed on.

“LOOK OUT!”

The teeth of mountain lion closed around Oikawa’s heel. He screamed as absolute terror shot through his veins.

“OIKAWA! KICK IT!”

Shrieking, Oikawa smashed his other foot into the mountain lion’s nose. It just dug its teeth deeper into Oikawa’s shoe. Oikawa’screeches increased in volume and pitch as he pulled his foot back and kicked downwards with all his strength.

The lion let go in a screech of pain. It clawed at Oikawa in one last desperate effort as it fell. With a howl, its body hit the rocks and disappeared into the river.

Oikawa hung from his braid, gasping in air. Iwaizumi was frantically pulling the braid, heaving his entire body to pull him up, but there was still a long way to go. His foot, which hadn't hurt before, began to throb. He looked down, scared that the lion had bitten off his heel, but his shoe was still there. 

Magled, but still there. 

The strange, surging energy had left his body, leaving his body weak and wobbly as jelly. He pushed as much as he could with his legs as Iwaizumi pulled at his braid. When he reached the rocks at the top, his arms were shaking so much that he was scared that if let go he was going to fall back down.

Iwaizumi grunted as he lifted Oikawa out of the chasm and dropped him on the safety of the grass. “Come on, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi gently pried Oikawa’s stiff hands from his braid. Then he untied Oikawa’s hair from the tree and dumped it besides Oikawa. Then he promptly collapsed next to him. With great effort, Oikawa turned his head to look at Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi was sweating so much that his hair was wet, and he massaged his upper arms and rubbed his hands, which looked red and raw.

“Thank you,” Oikawa croaked out.

Iwaizumi nodded, looking a tad bit uncomfortable, but he gently patted Oikawa’s forehead. Oikawa considered him with some admiration. Iwaizumi had climbed up Oikawa’s entire tower-and he’d done it three times. He must be very strong. And Sorcerer, who had climbed his tower every day for years and years, must be the strongest person in the world.

Iwaizumi wiped his forehead and flicked the sweat form his hand. Then he grinned at Oikawa. “You’re going to have some good stories to tell after this, you know? Of how you conquered a mountain lion and climbed your own hair out of a ravine, in spite of all the fairies that want you dead.”

“That’s an _awful_ story.”

“That’s what makes it good. My father always said that about adventures. The worst part in the doing is the best part in the telling.” Iwaizumi smiled fondly at the memory.

“Where is your family? Are you from Seijoh?” Oikawa mumbled, his cheek still pressed against the soft grass of the ground.

“Yeah, I was born in Seijoh. I lived most of my childhood there, but then we moved to the Violet Peaks because my father switched jobs from a merchant to a miner,” Iwaizumi said as he pulled out the bead again. “Ready?”

“I can’t stand. My foot hurts.”

“You got lucky. The teeth didn't even sink into your heel, only your shoe,” Iwaizumi stood up, and then pulled Oikawa up. Oikawa’s knees buckled and he face planted into Iwaizumi’s chest. Warm, strong arms wrapped themselves around Oikawa’s waist to keep him from falling.

“I’m not carrying you,” came Iwaizumi’s voice.

“Mpmh,” Oikawa mumbled into Iwaizumi’s chest. It was warm here, and he felt safe.

Iwaizumi sighed. “Guess all that adrenaline wore off. This is the part where you crash.”

Oikawa pushed himself to a standing position, one hand still gripping Iwaizumi’s arm. “Adrenaline?”

“It’s probably what you felt when you saw the mountain lion. It’s a chemical in the brain that gets dispensed when you’re in danger and makes you like, ten times stronger and faster.”

“That’s what I felt!” Oikawa excitedly told Iwaizumi. “It was so cool! I felt so strong! Why don’t we feel like that all the time?”

“Because after it wears off it takes a toll on your body. It makes you really tired since you used up so much energy trying to save your life,” Iwaizumi eyes Oikawa’s trembling body. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Wind up, please,” Oikawa said to his wheel on his back. It had saved his life. It spun and his hair coiled. The spinning momentum, however, knocked Oikawa over and he stumbled.

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “Get on my back. I’m going to carry you over that bridge. You’re never going to survive the rocking and swaying of the bridge.”

Oikawa was thrilled to learn about a “piggyback”-“Because you’re a pig and you’re on my back,” Iwaizumi had said-but he fell asleep before Iwaizumi even cracked the Instant bead.

He didn’t see the how the rope bridge swayed with each step, or how the other side had soft, dotting wildflowers and greener grass, and he didn’t see how Iwaizumi smiled at him as he slept, drooling on Iwaizumi’s shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and feedback is always appreciated! I'm so sorry for the crazy schedule, but I'm already working on the next chapter so see you then!


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